


Central City

by atomicchronicle



Series: Twin Cities [1]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Action, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Canonical Character Death, Drama, F/M, Romance, Science Fiction, Superheroes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-15
Updated: 2016-11-18
Packaged: 2018-05-14 01:30:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 62,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5724412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atomicchronicle/pseuds/atomicchronicle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Barry Allen is struck by lightning and becomes the Flash.</p><p>OR</p><p>A story in which I recast most of Barry's villains. Starts really diverging around Chapter 9. Will be very divergent from then on.<br/>This story does not need to be read with Keystone to be understood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rebirth

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of a set. It can be read together with or separate from Keystone. At least, that's my intention. For those who want to read both, Chapter 1 of Central City corresponds to Chapter 2 of Keystone.
> 
> I thought I'd try to give some more realistic approaches to, you know, coming out of a coma, Star's financial situation. And to try some different points of view. I hope to write more of Iris and develop her more as a character. Caitlin as well - I think she could use some character development.

The computer snapped off. The lights in the lab died.

Barry looked up. From where he was, he could see the roof of Star Labs. An explosion went off, rising above the skyline. A great red wave washed over him. He felt like his body was...tingling. Like he had gooseflesh under his gooseflesh.

In the absence of the whir of the mass spectrometer and the centrifuge, the rain coming in from the skyline was almost deafening. He turned away from the window, going to shut the skyline. The accelerator...exploded...

How could that happen?

He was still holding the chain when he felt it. Felt it like that night fourteen years ago. Like his body was a few bones too heavy from defying gravity. The beakers in his lab clinked as the liquids rose out of them. Just like his fish tank fourteen years ago.

The lighting crashed in, hurtling Barry across the room.

  
Eight months later...

Cisco looked between Caitlin and Dr. Wells. Dr. Wells shuffled the files on his lap. Caitlin's expression of confusion mirrored Cisco's.

"This is a...company meeting," Dr. Wells said. Caitlin glanced back to Cisco, alarmed. There hadn't been a company meeting since before the accident.

"Star Labs is officially on its own," Dr. Wells said. "We have no investors. While the two of you were probably aware, this is a sinking ship. We can try to bail Star out, or we can cut our losses now and move on."

"Cut our losses?" Cisco echoed. How could he say that? They were...helping Barry. If there was time to fight, Cisco would stay and give it everything he had.

"Star is all we have left," Caitlin said.

Dr. Wells nodded. "The two of you are all I have left. I thought we'd...try for a unified decision. I have information that may...affect your decisions." He held out two of the three files on his lap. Cisco flipped through his. They were all job offers. Kord Industries. Queen Consolidated. Mercury Labs. And that was just to start.

"I got in touch with some people," Dr. Wells explained. "These are places that would be more than happy to take either or both of you. I have enough for severance." He held out his hands, as if to let them know that he had nothing else. This was his only gift to offer.

"What do we have to do to save Star?" Cisco asked, setting the file aside. The effort was...amazing. Dr. Wells was just so freaking cool. But Cisco wanted Star to live.

"For one, we need to recoup costs wherever we can," Dr. Wells said. "I've already started to do that - selling prototypes that we simply can't develop. I'm shutting off power and central air to anywhere but the cortex and lobby. And second, we need product. I know, I know, I've never stressed profit margins or sales, but we need something."

"I could do some private testing," Caitlin offered.

Cisco rubbed his lower lip. He'd been in his old projects and designs, making the guns. Maybe there was something in there worth developing. Could he sell the fire suit to the city? Or would that make people end up hating Dr. Wells and Star Labs even more?

"I could look through some old projects," Cisco said. "See if there's anything worth polishing. Maybe I can help with selling the old prototypes."

"Good ideas," Dr. Wells said.

"How much longer do we have?" Caitlin asked. "You're making it sound like we have a shot at saving Star."

"We have about a year," Dr. Wells said. "Give or take. If we can get an investor or a product, we could continue."

"We can do this," Cisco said. "We can save Star."

  
He looked so peaceful, just lying there.

Iris thought about how, when they were kids, they used to have a game where they woke each other up in the meanest way they could. It was the stupidest game. It usually involved ice. Iris just wanted to reach over and give Barry a big smack. Or maybe shove a big bag of ice down his pants. Find a dog with rank breath that would lick Barry's face.

It wasn't going to do anything. Still comatose.

 _At least he's not dying any more_ , she thought, rubbing her thumb over his knuckles. She liked to think that he could feel it. That he knew she was there. Sometimes she played his favorite songs for him. Talked to him.

"Are you gunna make me spend another one of your stupid nerdy holidays on my own?" Iris asked, poking him in the side. Pi day. The Ides of March. Mole Day Part 1. And, if he didn't wake up, Mole Day Part 2 was going to skate right past. Cisco and Caitlin had tried to cheer her up, and Iris appreciated that. But there was only one person she really wanted to see on those days.

Iris stroked his hair. He was gunna need another hair cut. Another nail trim.

"Please wake up, Barry," Iris whispered. But he kept laying there. Not dead. Not alive. Stuck in limbo.

  
Cisco tossed another idea onto the 'Show to Dr. Wells' pile.

He was almost through all of his ideas that he'd made at Star. Next he'd go through the ideas and projects he'd done for school and on his own time. And if he still didn't have anything marketable, he'd have to move onto the myriad of Star's IP.

"Any luck?" Caitlin asked. Cisco glanced up. She was looking over Dr. Wells' shoulder.

"The thing about trying to find someone who can supposedly phase through a wall is figuring out if they can phase through a wall," Dr. Wells said. "If we could get an idea of who the meta-human is, we could track them down." He shook his head.

Cisco got up, taking the pile of hopeful ideas over to Dr. Wells.

"How about taking a break and looking at some inventions?" Cisco asked.

"Anything but trying to find a disappearing needle," Dr. Wells grumbled, reaching for the stack. "How's the testing going?"

"Better now that I've realized that CCPD is down one forensic assistant," Caitlin said, looking rather pleased with herself.

"Very good, Caitlin," Dr. Wells said. "Thank you."

  
Caitlin glanced over from her work station.

Cisco and Dr. Wells were still pouring over the ideas for what Cisco could polish. Caitlin felt a smile twitching on her lips. It had been a while since there had been so much energy in the cortex. The flow of more than just ideas. Positivity from everyone at once. If she didn't know any better, she'd even think that Barry was smiling.

She leaned over the forensic samples from CCPD. Things...might possibly be looking up.

  
A month later...

Barry felt like someone was pressing down on his chest.

It was like he couldn't breathe. He couldn't move. People were talking about...auditory functions. And... was that Lady Gaga? Someone was blasting Lady Gaga while he was suffocating?

Suddenly, Barry found himself back in control of his muscles. He shot up, gasping for air. He was in some sort of...lab. A kid in a Space Invaders t-shirt recoiled.

"Oh, my god," the guy said, pulling away like Barry was the first zombie of the apocalypse.

"Where am I?" Barry asked.

"He's up," a woman announced. Barry started ripping off the electrodes and tubes taped to his skin. The woman started trying to give him a physical.

"Hey, hey, whoa, relax," the guy said, putting a hand on...Barry's very bare arm. Barry got to his feet, wishing the woman would take her hand off the small of his back. "Everything's okay man. You're at Star Labs."

"Star Labs?" Barry asked. That explained absolutely nothing. Not why a guy with long hair and a Space Invaders shirt was touching him. Not why there was a redhead whirling around like a super doctor. And most certainly not why Barry was shirtless.

"I'm Cisco. This is Caitlin, uh, Dr. Snow," the man said.

"I need you to urinate in this," Dr. Snow said, holding up a plastic cup. Cisco snatched it out of her hand, giving her a dirty look.

"Not right now," Cisco said.

"What is happening?" Barry demanded.

  
Maybe it was the natural moment of her body that lead her to look up. Or the chill in the air that made her turn away from the cold. Maybe it was just her trying to greet the next person who walked in. Whatever the reason, Iris was happy she did.

Barry was yanking open the door open. His hair was a little shaggier than he normally wore it. He had no jacket on - crazy for October weather. But he wore Star Labs sweats. She nearly dropped the pot of coffee she held. Instead, she abandoned it on the table and hugged him.

"You're awake!" she gasped. "Why didn't Star Labs call us?"

"I just woke up," Barry said. "I ran all the way here."

"What? Should you even be on your feet?" Iris asked. She'd heard things from Caitlin about people needing severe physical therapy after waking up from a coma. Iris had been prepared for years of helping Barry build back his strength.

"Iris, I'm okay," Barry said, smiling like he'd won the lottery. He didn't get it.

"I watched you die," Iris said. "Over and over again. Your heart kept stopping." He took her hand and pressed it to his chest.

"It's fine," he assured her. "See? Still beating."

"It feels really fast," Iris said. When...did Barry get pecks? Last time he walked around the house shirtless he'd had a tweak of flab. All that felt like it was gone.

Barry whipped his head around. A tray crashed behind her. Iris looked down. Tracy was cleaning up the mess.

"Are you okay, Tracy?" Iris asked. The worst part about porcelain dishes was the cuts.

"I got it," Tracy said.

"My dad is gunna be so happy to see you," Iris said. "Let me get my stuff, okay?"

  
So much had changed in nine months. The landlord had let Joe cancel Barry's lease. Chyre was gone, replaced by Detective Pretty Boy. Captain Singh had even said 'nice to see you, Allen' without sounding sarcastic. The city hated Harrison Wells. And Fred Chyre was gone.

"Welcome back, Barry," Officer Towne said. Barry waved, watching as he booked a scruffy looking character. The perp reached for an officer's gun-

Barry had crossed the room, pushed the perp, and was back to where he was before he could really even register the motion. It was different from the coffee shop. The world hadn't slowed down for him as he remained normal-paced. It felt like he sped up.

"Are you okay?" Iris asked.

"Yeah, yeah," Barry said. "Fine. I just need some air. But I'll call- I'll see you tonight. Okay?" He didn't wait for her to respond. He had to get out. His hands were buzzing.

Barry got outside. In the cloudy light of day, it looked just the same. Vibrating hands.

 _What's happening?_ he wondered. He tried to move, but, again, he moved faster than he realized. Or, rather, intended. He slammed into a dumpster, groaning a little at the dull pain. He felt energized, but still in pain.

He tried again, moving more quickly than he wanted to. And slamming into a police cruiser to boot. The rear bumper got dented. But Barry barely felt anything that time.

He slowly took a step. Nothing. Barry took another cautious step. Nothing. Barry circled slowly in the alley, waiting for the...speed to come to him. He upped the walk to a jog, now wondering if the speed had been a hallucination. But the dent in the cruiser said otherwise.

Barry lowered down into the familiar runner's pose, facing the long track of the alley. He was going to run this time. He was going to be fast.

The instant he thought it, he knew he could do it. He knew he'd reproduce the speed. It was a steadfast knoweledge. He could feel...the speed in his muscles.

And then he flew over the pavement. A rush of energy filled him as he hurtled down, landing in a dry cleaner's van.

  
Caitlin rapped her nails against the desk. It wasn't too windy today. Brisk, yes. Not windy. The perfect day to have lunch on a cafe patio before everyone was driven inside.

"You don't actually believe he can run that fast, do you?" Caitlin asked. Dr. Wells smiled.

"I believe anything is possible," Dr. Wells said. "And maybe in a few minutes, you will too." Caitlin shook her head. Barry came out of the truck in the spandex suit and pads they'd scrounged up.

She looked away, prepping her instruments to monitor Barry's vitals. As amazing as they were, they didn't really scream 'I can run super fast' to her. Maybe he could run slightly above normal or something, but not so fast that he 'made a dent in a dumpster'. She finished up, passing Cisco on her way to calibrate the electrodes.

Barry made a noise. A sort of disapproving noise.

"What," she said, making sure all the equipment was functioning.

"Nothing...I just noticed you don't smile too much," Barry said. It was one of those trying-to-pry-without-prying comments.

"My once promising career in bio-engineering is over; my boss is probably going to be in a wheelchair for life; and the explosion that put you in a coma also killed my fiance. So this blank expression feels like the way to go," Caitlin said. She hoped she didn't sound too harsh or bitter. It was the emotionless truth. Emotionless so that her emotions didn't run over and spill out in a hideous mess.

It had been getting easier, but today not so much. While going through her D&D books, she'd found some characters Ronnie had created. He always liked to have characters that were ridiculously silly and made no sense. Like a dragon-born centaur. Or a mermaid that was going on a desert mission. The backstories were ridiculous - a shardmind who'd been buried for centuries and been worshiped by a clan of goblins.

And that was enough to put Caitlin into a funk, to remind her how much she missed Ronnie.

She walked away, hearing Dr. Wells cautioning Barry about restraint. Caitlin sat in her chair. Cisco and Dr. Wells were so sure that Barry wasn't lying. They didn't even know him. Even if he was a cop, that didn't magically make him a good person.

The blow-back of Barry taking off made every paper on the makeshift desk fly off. Caitlin's hair was going to be messed up for the rest of the day. And Dr. Well's wheelchair slid back a good two feet.

He could run. Barry Allen could run so fast he was a blur. How was that even possible?

At the end of the runway, the barrels of water exploded. Caitlin grabbed her bag. He was going to need a doctor.

  
Barry rubbed his wrist. Healed in three hours. It had hurt so much before. Now it was just a little achy.

"What happened out there?" Dr. Wells asked. "You were doing well until...you lost focus."

"I...remembered something," Barry said. Dr. Wells gave him a questioning look.

Normally, Barry wouldn't tell the story. Not to people he'd just met. Not even after six months of knowing someone. It was never about time. It was about trust. He'd normally trust people, but not with this. Too many bad reactions had soured this one thing.

But they'd all seen what he could do. And with Caitlin suddenly excited to study him, he was pretty sure they'd at least hold back the worst of their skeptecism.

"I was eleven when my mother was murdered," Barry said, checking the last word so that his voice didn't break. "It was late. The sound woke me up. I came downstairs and saw what looked like a ball of lightning. Inside the lightning was a man. He killed my mom. They arrested my dad. He's still sitting in Iron Heights for her murder. Everyone told me that what I saw was impossible. But what if the man who killed my mother was like me?"

Dr. Wells nodded.

"It certainly sounds like it, Mr. Allen," Dr. Wells agreed.

  
The whole day had been surreal. From him waking in Star Labs to finding he had superpowers, Barry's mind had been thoroughly blown. On top of it, he found himself staring up at the mobile of the solar system he'd made when he was thirteen as he drifted to sleep.

When he woke, there was only one thought on his mind. It drove him to take a little extra care in getting ready. Iris was already gone, and he wasn't far behind her. His heart was as light as his feet as he raced to tell her.

There she was. Leaning forward towards Detective Thawne. And kissing him.

So much for a second chance at telling Iris how he felt. When the couple parted, Eddie caught sight of Barry. His face fell enough to have Iris jump. She met eyes with Barry, regret filling her eyes.

  
As instantly as the words were out, Joe regretted them.

All he wanted was for Barry to just accept things so that he could move on. Grow in new ways. Get a girlfriend. Joe just wanted Barry to not be weighed down by the past so much that he forgot to live in the present.

"You're not going to believe this," Eddie said, opening a folded piece of paper. "I got the eyewitness sketch for the robber at the bank job." Joe's stomach dropped to his feet. The sketch was clearly the man he'd perused for years. Clyde Mardon.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say that was Clyde Mardon," Eddie said. "But that's impossible. Clyde Mardon is dead."

No. It appeared not to be that way. They were going to hunt a dead man.

  
"I wasn't the only one affected by the particle accelerator explosion, was I," Barry demanded.

Harrison turned his attention to Caitlin and Cisco. They stared at their boss questioningly. He'd asked them not to mention the metas. It was his mess to clean up.

"We don't know for sure," Harrison admitted.

"You said the city was safe, that there was no residual danger," Barry said. "But that's not true, so what really happened?"

"The story is much the same," Harrison said, pulling the files up. "The accelerator went active. We all felt like heroes and then it all went wrong." He sent the graphic they'd whipped up onto one of the screens. Barry turned, watching the simulation of the damage.

"Something went wrong," Harrison said. "When the Pipeline ruptured, it released unknown energies. Antimatter, dark matter, x-elements, tachyons."

"Those are all theoretical," Barry said. "Mostly."

"How theoretical are you?" Harrison countered. "We mapped the saturation of the energies in and around Central City and Keystone, but we have no way of knowing who or what was effected. We've been searching for other...meta-humans like yourself."

"Meta-humans?" Barry asked.

"It's what we're calling them," Cisco said, proud of the name.

"Well, I met one today," Barry said, furious. "He's a bank robber who _can control the weather_." Fabulous. More damage. More destruction. More havoc. The madness was progressing.

"This just keeps getting cooler," Cisco said.

"This is not cool," Barry chastised, beating Harrison to the words. "A man died. Mardon must've gotten his powers the same way I did - from the storm cloud. We have to stop him." Barry was about to walk out.

"Barry," Harrison snapped. "That's a job for the police."

"I work for the police," Barry said. Oh, yes, he did.

"As a forensic assistant," Harrison pointed out.

"You're responsible for this. For him," Barry said. It hit Harrison right in the heart.

"I am acutely aware of the damages I have dealt both to myself and others," Harrison said calmly. "But I'm not the one who's important here. I've lost it all - my reputation, my company, my freedom, all but two friends. Now you've broken your arm and it healed in three hours. Inside your body could be new gene therapies, vaccines, cures to horrific diseases - treasures untold. So, Mr. Allen. Do you really want to risk losing all that by playing hero?"

Barry running out scattered the papers in the room.

  
"I finally became the impossible," Barry said.

"So why come to Starling?" Oliver asked, crossing his arms in the brooding way he always seemed to be doing. "Something tells me this wasn't a social call."

"All my life I've wanted to do more to help people," Barry said. "Now that I can - I screwed up. What if I'm not a hero? What if I'm just some guy who got struck by lightning?"

"I think that bolt of lightning did more than strike you, Barry," Oliver said. "I think it brought your ability to help people to a new level. Heroes are just ordinary people who've been torn apart by their circumstances and remade by the trials they overcome."

"I don't think I can be a vigilante like you," Barry said. Even with Oliver restraining himself from taking lives, he didn't know if he could moonlight as a rooftop warrior.

"You can be better," Oliver said. "You can inspire people, be a beacon of hope to your city in a way I can't. Make a difference. Save people...in a flash."

Oliver turned away, probably about to get back to shooting arrows through someone's tires. He stopped, turning back with the mask Barry had made for him.

"Take your own advice: wear a mask," Oliver said.

  
When Barry returned nearly two and a half hours later, it was with boxes. The sort of boxes police files came in. Cisco stood back as Barry spread some things out. He was pretty sure if there had been a cork board and yarn, they'd have a crime drama board up in the cortex.

"What's all this?" Cisco asked.

"I went over unsolved cases from the past nine months, and there's been a sharp increase in unexplained deaths and missing people," Barry said. "I did a quick cross-reference and saw a similar uptick in weird injuries admitted to the emergency room and ICU. Your meta-humans have been busy."

Cisco looked down. Yeah. He'd figured something like this. Super-powered evil people. They just needed one super-powered good guy to fend off the bad ones. Just one. Barry could be that one.

"I know I was...upset before," Barry said. "But I know no one here wanted any of this to happen. I know we all lost something. But we need to catch Mardon and anyone else like him. I can't do it without you."

Cisco looked up. Oh, hell yes. Barry was the super hero. Cisco was glad for Caitlin's somber atmosphere or he would've shouted 'dibs on sidekick'. Not that she would really care. They had a super hero, now they just needed a costume.

"I have something that might help," Cisco said.

  
Barry jumped, hurtling into the debris.

The suit was thick enough that the rusty nails didn't even puncture. Nice. He ripped off the mask - it wasn't really doing anything.

"Barry, can you hear me?" Cisco asked.

"Loud and clear," Barry called.

"If this keeps up, that could become an F-5 tornado," Cisco said. "And it's heading towards the city." How did one stop a tornado? How did one fight the very elements themselves?

"Can I unravel it?" Barry asked. He'd have to go, what, six hundred miles an hour? "Run around it in the opposite direction. Cut off it's legs."

"You'd have to reach at least seven hundred miles an hour," Cisco said. Okay, so he'd been off by some.

"Your body might not be able to handle those speeds," Caitlin said.

Barry took off. The wind pressed against him. For a moment, it was hot and burning in his eyes. And then it was like there was no more dust. He could do this. He could-

A bolt of lightning slapped across his side, sending him careening into a dune.

"He's too strong," Barry panted.

"You were right, Barry," Dr. Wells said. "I am responsible for this. I created this madness, but _you_ can stop it. You can do this. You can be a hero to a city and to the world. Now _run_."

Barry took off, pressing himself harder. The wind pushed him back, but he pushed harder. And he could feel when it started working. When the wind stopped pulling so hard. When Mardon started yelling, trying to hold on to the power of the storm.

But maybe lightning was just more powerful.

The tornado collapsed in on itself with a clap of thunder. Barry tumbled to the ground. He got to his feet. Was that it? Did he win? The dust was cleared, and he was the only one standing.

"Hey!" Clyde called. Nope. Barry stared at the barrel of the gun. "I didn't think there was anyone like me.

"I'm not like you," Barry said. Clyde smirked, pulling the gun up. Two pops rang out, bringing Clyde Mardon down.

"Barry?" Caitlin asked.

"It's over," Barry said. "Mardon's dead."

  
Harrison sat in front of the wall.

Nine months ago, he'd been certain that he would have to give up on all of this. But after today - Barry breaking past the normal speeds of a human, their little tiff, and the situation with Mardon - made it seem like it might become a possibility. Maybe that was what had summoned him back here.

Harrison pressed his hand to the wall, not flinching as the burn of reading his biometrics set in. The cement glowed, sliding back. The room beyond lit up as he entered. The door shut behind him.

The small room had one wall of monitors. There was a stand with a pair of gloves and goggles on it gathering dust in the corner. He went to the monitors, tapping on the keyboard.

"Good evening, Dr. Wells," a mechanical voice said. "How may I help you tonight?"

"Bring up my logs," Harrison said. Several different logs popped up on the screen. "The one for Barry Allen. New entry." The images shifted, bringing Barry's log front and center.


	2. Bend Over Backwards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barry investigates a possible meta-human murder connected to the same product Iris is looking into for her article.

"Hey, are we gunna test the suit again?" Barry asked.

Cisco looked up from the screen. He had his feet up while he sorted out ideas for his next project. He was thinking about something in fibers. The reinforced tripolymer was an obvious success. Now he wanted to develop things for the general public.

He got to his feet. At last Barry had an answer to his question. They went to the treadmill, suit in tow. Barry pulled off his cardigan.

"Are you really going to test the suit, or are we talking about …” Cisco trailed off. Sure, what Barry could do was cool, but starting a crime-fighting team? That was dope.

"Both," Barry said, voice low. "Caitlin is right next door. She won't exactly approve of this, right?"

"Not at all," Cisco said, folding his arms across his chest. Barry whipped around, suddenly in the suit. His clothes were folded neatly in a pile on the floor.

"You think we can hide it from Caitlin?" Barry asked.

"You leave that to me," Cisco said, grinning. "You just worry about your crime-fighting skills, man."

When he'd been a kid, Cisco had two dreams. The first was to work with robots, a goal he'd achieved at fourteen when he made a rather impressive battle bot. And it had continued when he'd come to Star Labs. His second dream had been to work with a superhero. What did it matter if he was the hero or the sidekick? He was _living the dream_ , man.

"Do we have a deal?" Cisco asked, holding out his hand. Barry grabbed it, shaking firmly.

"When do we start?"

  
Barry stopped by the dumpsters.

"Everybody's out," he said, touching the comm device. "What else you got for me, Cisco?"

"Barry, it's Caitlin," she snapped.

 _No_ , Barry thought. It didn't take a warning from Cisco to know that Caitlin wouldn't just be mad when she found out that they were trying to be heroes. Not that she didn't want them to do good. She just...had that general stiff disapproval.

"Hey, Caitlin," Barry said. "How's your day?" Maybe she was relaxed enough that this wouldn't be so bad.

"Get back to Star Labs," she said. " _Now_." Oh. No dice.

"I'm on my way," Barry replied. He moved to pull at his speed, but a sharp pain throbbed in his head. For a moment, his body felt a little weak. He found himself leaning heavily against the dumpster for support.

  
"Have you both lost your minds?" Caitlin asked, giving Barry a stern look. "Who do you think you are?"

"Well, I'm the eyes and ears and he's the feet," Cisco explained. Joking out of place. Again. As appreciative of it as she'd been in the last nine months, now was not the time.

"This isn't funny," she said. "You could've gotten yourself killed. You can't be running around the city like some supersonic fireman."

"Why? This is what we talked about," Barry said. "Besides, I'm wearing a fire suit."

"No, we talked about containing dangerous meta-humans," Caitlin said. "Since we can't seem to find any, we'll have to wait until they show up. We'll call you when we need help."

"But the people in the city still need help," Barry said. "And I can help them."

“ _We_ can help them,” Cisco countered.

Caitlin couldn't believe the two of them. They were putting not only their own lives at risk, but Star Labs' involvement with meta-humans, too. And Barry wasn't invincible. What if he got hurt? What if he brought something back that hurt Cisco? Cisco didn't have super-healing.

Dr. Wells rounded the corner, looking like he'd come to investigate the conversation in the cortex.

“Will you please say something?” Caitlin asked. Surely he would see reason.

“I think what Caitlin is trying say is that we're only just beginning to discover what your body is capable of," Dr. Wells said. "You're ignoring common practices among runners. Things like warming up muscles, stretching and gradually building speed. Not to sound like a broken record, but I do caution restraint."

“No offense, but I don't think that's how you got to where you are today,” Barry said.

“In a wheelchair. A pariah. Lack of restraint made me these things,” Dr. Wells retorted. “Learn your limits.”

Well, if Dr. Wells wasn't going to talk some sense into them, maybe a little word of warning would keep Barry from doing something stupid. "Don't expect me to patch you up every time you break something."

She went to her workstation to look over some of Barry's scans. She could hear Cisco asking Barry about the suit and weird vitals. Well, as long as he had the suit on, at least she could check what was going on with him. Of course Barry brushed it off, going for his phone.

"I don't think he'll kill himself," Dr. Wells said. Caitlin looked up.

"I know, it's just-"

"You worry about people," Dr. Wells said. "I know." Barry whipped past them, scattering all the pages on the desk. Dr. Wells stared after Barry.

"When do you think he'll realize that he didn't take his clothes?" he asked.

"Think he'll be back?" Cisco asked.

"I don't know," Dr. Wells said. "But, it interests me that you didn't tell me that you were helping Barry play hero." He turned a smile to Cisco.

"Uh, well...I-I was just...I just," Cisco stuttered, trying to explain himself. Caitlin couldn't tell if Dr. Wells was actually okay with it or hiding his anger very well. Either way, he held up a hand.

"My concern is not that you are using Star Labs recorces," Dr. Wells said. "It's that we have no official plan for how we are to clean up the mess I made. What you're doing, while admirable, could be easily be considered vigilantism."

"We're just preventing muggings and pulling people out of burning buildings," Cisco said. "No arrests. Just preventative stuff."

"I want to discuss the finer details of our still unofficial agreement if the two of you want to continue to operate here," Dr. Wells said.

"Of course," Cisco said, relaxing. Even Caitlin thought that he'd be mad. "I'll tell Barry when he comes back."

"Good," Dr. Wells said, steepling his fingers. "Now, did you have a better idea on what project you wanted to work on?"

  
It had been a long time since Joe had studied science, but even he knew this crime scene wasn't normal. CSI was scratching their heads. Even Barry was looking around with confusion.

"So, what happened?" Captain Singh asked.

"Apperantly a man who was about ten feet tall with a shoe size of thirteen stood there," Barry said. "He hit his head on the ceiling. And that's about all I have right now." Barry motioned for someone to come photograph the hole in the ceiling.

"How did no one see a ten foot person walking through the hallway?" Joe asked.

"I think we should be thankful there weren't any arrows around here," David said. "This is the second one-percenter to go this week."

"You think someone's targeting the rich?" Eddie asked.

"It's the second time someone got past heavy security without being noticed," David said. "If the two murders are connected, I want to know about it."

It was the closed off bedroom of Madeline Groves. She had ample security outside. But somehow, she'd still ended up strangled.

It looked like she'd fought with her attacker. Somehow, there were scorch marks on the walls with the holes where a fist had gone through. Her comforter was badly burned. It had been the fire alarm that had drawn security in.

Barry was still staring at the footprints, slowly turning in circles. He kept kneeling down and taking samples. Maybe he was onto something. He could only hope the proof would be in the science.

  
Barry leaned against his desk, clutching it for support.

He felt chilly, despite the cardigan he'd put on for a little extra warmth. But, at the same time, he felt like he'd run a few miles without his power - completely exhausted. His legs were shaky and jello-like, and it felt like the wind got knocked out of him. And there was a pain building in his head.

"This is all your fault," Iris said, striding in, wearing a pink lace dress that hadn't been in her closet pre-coma. "I could've taken European Folklore to cover my sociology requirement, but no. You said 'Take Journalism, Iris. Reports have all of the fun.' Guess what, Barry? Reporters have none of the fun. Journalism is boring. I'm bored. I blame you."

Iris always seemed to dress nice, even on the days when all she did was wear a pair of his old, ratty sweats and one of Joe's CCPD t-shirts. But today she reminded him of prom, when she'd worn that dress that brought to mind strawberry champagne in dress form.

"What," she said. "Why are you staring at me like that?"

Barry searched his mind for something to say to her beyond 'I love you. Please marry me.'

"You look...really nice," he said, pushing off from the desk. Lame. He wrote down the results of the blood test.

"Thanks," she said. "Why don't you look nice? This afternoon? The press release for Simon Stagg's new product in conjunction with NutriLook."

"The press release," Barry echoed. He remembered now.

"They're making some amazing new makeup. And you agreed-," Iris said.

"To explain the science," Barry said. "It's coming back to me."

"Do you have a suit jacket hiding around here?" Iris asked. "How fast can you get home and change?" Barry realized that, for the first time, he might be able to fix his own mistake.

"Pretty fast," Barry said. "Listen, Iris. You just helped me narrow down this suspect pool. I need-"

"Hey, Allen," Eddie said, waltzing into the lab. "Joe asked me to see where you're at on the evidence from the Groves murder. Oh, hey, Iris."

"Detective," she said, as equally chilly and dismissive as he'd been.

Joe would know full well that Barry had barely begun on the evidence from the murder, since he'd been the one to send him up here in the first place. Did they think he was blind? Eddie's gaze didn't waver from Barry, and Iris inspected her nails as though Eddie was the last thing she possibly wanted to look at.

"Hey, guys, I already know, remember?" he said, turning away so that he didn't have to watch them kiss. But, like the glutton he was, he glanced over anyway.

Iris grinned at Eddie the way he'd always dreamed she would look at him. He ripped his eyes off the couple.

"Thanks for being so cool about this, Barry," Eddie said, drawing the words out. "I know how hard it is to keep secrets."

"Getting easier," Barry muttered. Louder he said. "Listen, Eddie, NutriLook and Stagg Industries were making a makeup product together. NutriLook was owned by Madeline Groves."

"So anyone who wanted that product to fail could have motive," Eddie said, removing his arm from Iris. "I'll go get Joe."

  
"The new Gloss Look makeup combines the quality makeup women expect with the technology of Stagg Industries to create a product that revitalizes the elasticity in skin to make a more youthful, glossy look," Mr. Stagg said. "Any questions?"

Reporters called out questions. "How did Madeline Groves die?" and "With the CEO of NutriLook gone, how will this effect sales?" were the two loudest questions. Iris sort of wanted to jump in there and pry about this connection to the murder. But her dad had been very firm when he'd said that she could only come if she didn't draw attention to the cops in the back.

Stagg picked a woman who was asking about the available shades. Iris sidled away from her small group, moving to the side. The next question he picked was about how Gloss Look differed from Glow Look. Iris was almost to the side of the press chairs when she raised her hand.

He was trying to pick out people who wouldn't have questions about Madeline Groves. He was picking women who were dressed better than the others. And Iris would bet her fifty dollar dress that she looked something along those lines.

"Yes? You in the back," Mr. Stagg said, motioning to Iris.

"Almost a year ago, the Gloss Look line failed FDA aproval," Iris said. "What's changed that makes it safe now?"

"It was the methods that we used to produce the product that was rejected, not the formula itself," Mr. Stagg said, standing back a little at the podium. It was one of those things politicians did when they were trying to avoid the topic. "We've been spending the last few months reworking the production process so that it is safe for the consumer."

At least her topic was getting more interesting. She'd originally only picked Gloss Look because it seemed strange that a company would try to continue with the same rejected formula. And it was sort of science-y. There was science in the way the makeup was supposed to encourage cellular growth. Now it had hints of shady coroporate dealings.

A few more questions were asked - mostly things about fashion and style. It seemed a little obvious that Stagg hadn't planned on being the only person up there. He'd hoped Madeline Groves would be there with him to answer the fashion questions. He retreated as soon as he could, citing that he had a prior engagement.

Her dad and Eddie swooped in, following Mr. Stagg and his bodyguards out. Barry ended up at her side.

"Did you get what you needed for your article?" Barry asked.

"Almost," Iris said. "I need you to explain why his product does what it does."

"Well, it's got pretty standard ingredients to nourish the skin," Barry said. "Really, the only thing that makes it different is that it tells your skin to start producing elastin and collagen. Collegen is what gives your skin rigidity. Elastin is what lets your skin change shape. You produce them when you're young, but you start to peter off as you get older. Hence why all the marketing is for older women."

Iris grinned at Barry, gushing over science. He could pick anything even moderately scientific and start geeking out about it. She grabbed his arm.

"I've missed this," she said. "I feel like we haven't spent any quality time together since you came out of the coma."

“Yeah, I've had a crazy couple of weeks readjusting," Barry said.

"The landlord still being a butt?" Iris asked. Barry wanted back in that closet of an apartment. It wasn't like Iris and her dad didn't mind having Barry back in the house. He saved on rent.

But it wasn't a completely comfortable arrangement. Iris had grown used to having a bathroom all to herself. He still ate like he was going out for track, so all the pasta had vanished from the house overnight. And it wasn't like it was real great for either of them that she nearly walked in on him pantsless a few days ago.

"It's not really that," Barry said, shrugging.

"I thought you'd been avoiding me because of Eddie," Iris said. "I know you think it's wrong, me dating my dad's partner."

"No, no," Barry said quickly. "That's not it at all." He turned in such a way that made Iris loosen her grip on his arm. He faced her with the same expression he'd had when he'd told her that he was in love with Becky Cooper.

Shots rang out. The reporters ducked for cover. Iris tried to stay upright to see what was going on. It had come from the direction her dad had gone. Barry pulled her down.

"Stay here," Barry said. She knelt there, hiding behind chairs as her best friend ran headlong into danger.

  
It was definitely the same person from before. At the crime scene, meta-human hadn't seemed quite right, but now that he ran after this person, it made more sense. The dirty footprints had changed size. The killer had been tall enough to break through a nine and a half foot ceiling, but there was no such person on the camera.

Barry rushed into a room that was empty of people. It looked like someone had taken Mr. Stagg into a panic room. He turned around. If someone was going to make an escape, they'd do it out the loading bays. Barry blew right past Eddie and Joe.

An eight foot monster of a man was shrinking into a van. When he caught sight of Barry, he rushed to start the engine. A wave of fog came over Barry. He grabbed onto a handrail to ease him to the ground. All the energy he felt when he ran - completely gone.

  
“You lied to us, Barry,” Caitlin snapped. "We're your _doctors_. If you don't tell us what's going on, how are we supposed to know how to treat you? Your cells are in a constant state of flux. For all we know, you're suffering from cardio pulmonary failure or a transient aschemic attack."

Barry looked to Dr. Wells, a half-frightened look on his face.

"Mini-stroke," Dr. Wells clarified. "Unlikely."

"You of all people should know that in science, we share," Caitlin said, voice trembling with anger. "We do not keep secrets." She clacked off.

"Wow, I haven't seen anyone make her that angry since Ronnie," Cisco said. No one got under her skin more than Ronnie.

"Now, Mr. Allen, if you don't mind, I'd like to clarify the...deal we seem to have," Dr. Wells said. "You said you wanted to help us contain meta-humans who commit crimes. But it seems you want that objective to evolve into helping people."

"I like helping people," Barry said, a little defensive.

"And there's nothing wrong with that," Dr. Wells said. "But, for one, I want to...bring up some things I want you to think about. While we wait for a bad meta-human to show up."

"And those are?" Barry asked.

"Star Labs isn't in the greatest condition financially," Dr. Wells said. "In return for the resources it will take to help you fight crime, I'd like you to help us study your powers and develop them. Maybe help us develop new technologies. Does that seem fair?"

"Sure," Barry said.

"And you'll do your best to go about things in as legal a way as possible, correct?" Dr. Wells asked.

"Of course," Barry said.

"If Cisco were to make something that would allow you to generate electricity, would you be willing to help out in that respect?" Dr. Wells asked. Barry nodded.

"I'd love to help out where I can," Barry said. "Let me know when you need something."

Oh, yes. This was cool. So effing cool. Cisco turned away, pushing down his inner fanboy. If he wasn't careful, he was going to faint like the time he met Leonard Nemoy.

  
Barry came to, dizzy and sick.

His stomach was a roiling mass of acid, threatening to be overturned. His body felt a little sore, especially on his face. He wondered if he'd bruised.

“Don't move,” Caitlin asked. "You had total metabolic failure brought on by acute hypoglycemia.”

"I'm not eating enough," Barry said. "So an IV bag and I'm good to go."

"Try forty," Dr. Wells said, motioning to the IV stand next to him. "I guess you were thirsty."

"We'll need to fashion you a new diet based on your metabolic changes," Caitlin said.

"You need to consume roughly eight-hundred fifty tacos," Cisco said. "Unless we're talking cheese and guac, which is like a whole new set of equations."

"Which also explains why I've been falling asleep earlier," Barry realized. His desire to take a nap at ten in the morning and two in the afternoon. He didn't have the energy to stay awake. He'd almost completely given up on his blog. His body was trying to get him to make up for all the running.

"If you want Mexican, I recommend Tito's on Bruckner Avenue," Joe said.

"Detective West," Dr. Wells said. "What brings you here?" Joe zeroed in on Barry.

"When I didn't find you in your lab, I did a little digging," Joe said. "Turns out there's been a red streak going around stopping muggings and saving people from burning buildings."

"Joe, I can explain-"

"You already have a job in law enforcement," Joe interrupted. "I suggest you get back to it."

"Detective, we all want what's best for Barry," Dr. Wells said.

"If you wanted what was best for Barry, you'd try to talk him out of this lunacy instead of encouraging him to go out there and risk his life," Joe growled.

"Detective, what is it you do when you pick up your gun and badge every day?" Dr. Wells asked. "Only you're not fast enough to dodge a bullet. And if you are hit, you may not have the capacity to heal from it. While Barry is by no means indestructible, neither are you."

While Joe was distracted by Dr. Wells, Barry got a word in edgewise.

"Clyde Mardon could control the weather," Barry pointed out. His head was still spinning, but he fought against it. "What are the police going to do against someone like that? And we think there are others like him. Meta-humans."

"And what are you going to do? Catch them?" Joe challenged. "You run fast, Barry, but you're not invincible. They will kill you if given the chance."

"They'll kill you if given the chance," Barry countered.

"You all think you're so smart," Joe said. "But none of you know what you can't see. I hope you all can figure that out before someone gets killed." Joe stalked out.

  
Iris waited at the table, two coffees ready.

She checked her watch. Barry still hadn't come down. He was supposed to be here by now. Had his alarm not gone off? Iris got up, going up to check his room. She checked herself at the door. He'd been upset that she kept walking in on him.

"Barry, are you in there?" she asked. No answer. She opened the door a crack. His bed was empty. She huffed.

Something was weird. Barry was avoiding her on his own. She could sort of understand him wanting her to knock. There were some things she was pretty sure she'd never be ready to walk in on. But him rushing out before he had a chance to explain the science for her article-

Iris shut the door. This was barely about the article any more. She was pissed because Barry was hiding something from her. He was going to tell her or she was going to twist his arm until he coughed it up.

  
"Why is my dad mad at you?" Iris asked.

Barry started running the sample from the murder. At least when it came to murders and things he could brush off Joe being mad at him.

"Work stuff," Barry said. It was one of those informal codes. Iris knew Joe didn't want to subject Iris to the gore of murder. He glanced at her. She believed it. And...that frown. "Why are you mad at me?"

"You were supposed to meet me in the dining room?" Iris reminded him. "To give me scientific background for my article. You know, more specific stuff."

"And I forgot and went to work," Barry groaned.

"And I have to come up with a new topic in twenty-four hours or I fail the assignment," Iris said. "And don't say you're sorry. I know you are. What I don't understand is what's going on with you. We practically grew up together. I know when something's going on. So I'm going to ask you one more time, Barry, and you had better tell me what the hell is-"

Iris hung in still motion.

"You want to know what's going on?" Barry asked. "I'm fast now. And I've had a crush on you since before I moved in with you. And it's been killing me not being able to tell you."

He let go of his speed.

"-going on with you?" Iris finished. As she did, the computer behind Barry went off. There was information about the murderer. Barry turned to look it over. "We are not done with this."

Just like he'd thought. The skin found beneath Ms. Groves's fingernails were cells that were hugely misshapen. Their bilipid layer had something extra in it.

  
"Cisco," Dr. Wells called. "It appears Stagg Industries is having a shootout."

Cisco came up behind his boss. Judging by the red dot, Barry was already on his way to the scene.

"Come to think of it, I think some mundane criminals would be good practice for Barry," Dr. Wells said. He started typing.

If Cisco didn't know any better, he'd say that Dr. Wells was hacking into Stagg Industries. Disapproval radiated off Caitlin in thick waves. Cisco glanced over at her. She was watching Dr. Wells out of the corner of her eye, lips pursed.

"Good grief, still using the same passwords?" Dr. Wells snorted. "Simon, you've always been just short of brilliant." The next moment, he had pulled up the security feed at Stagg Industries.

Barry was in a warehouse, facing off against...an empty warehouse. Barry kept turning, looking around like there was an enormous spider on the floor waiting to bite him. When his back was turned, a long arm snaked out from beneath a pallet.

Suddenly, Barry was pulled into the splits. Cisco hissed. A foot came out from another angle, kicking Barry in the stomach. Barry grabbed the leg. For a moment, he was pulled off screen.

"Whoa," Cisco said.

"A meta-human," Caitlin gasped. "I wonder how he does it." Dr. Wells pulled up a new angle with Barry in it. He was struggling to hang onto a leg that was smashing him against the ceiling.

"Oh, that's not good," Cisco said. He wished he'd put some kind of extra weapons in the suit. Maybe some kind of taser.

Barry's grip slipped. Cisco gasped and clutched his mouth. Barry flickered out of the room as soon as he landed.

"Oh, thank god," Caitlin gasped, leaning back in her chair.

  
"I got my ass handed to me," Barry grumbled.

"You got blood on my suit," Cisco said, shining the light from his headlamp on Barry. He had enough solvent to make a crime scene forensically clean. Barry was pretty sure he'd get any stains out of the suit.

"I think some of it belongs to him," Barry said. Dr. Wells flipped a picture of the meta-human onto the screen.

"Charles Kline," Dr. Wells said. "He was a test subject in the first run of Gloss Look. He very publicly claimed there was something wrong with Gloss Look before it was inspected by the FDA."

"Shortly after that, he vanished," Caitlin said.

"He was able to stretch really, really far," Barry said, getting up. "It was like he was a rubber band."

"I did a little digging," Dr. Wells said. "Gloss Look was originally a serum to be injected into the skin. Ten percent of the test subjects suffered from parts of their body becoming too rigid or too elastic than they should've been."

"So maybe the dark matter wave and the serum worked together," Cisco said. "So he can be like a bouncy ball one minute and a rubber band the next. Meet Snapback."

Barry shook his head. He couldn't do this.

“Where are you going?” Caitlin asked.

“Joe was right. I'm in way over my head. I'm fast, but I'm not a warrior,” Barry said. "How am I supposed to take on a guy who can stretch over thirty feet?"

"Barry, I understand," Dr. Wells said. "There are a lot of struggles in a grand enterprise like this. But I wouldn't have even let you continue here if I didn't believe that you have what it takes. You can do this, but you're going to need help. You're going to need practice."

"This wasn't a grand enterprise," Barry said. "This was a mistake." He turned on heel, running from Dr. Wells' words. He needed to see the person he'd always gone to.

  
Caitlin checked the samples Barry had brought again. She couldn't believe it. Madeline Groves had been a meta-human. Probably.

The cells gathered from her hands suggested that if she rubbed her hands together, she could make a spark. It was because she had a combination of a near sandpaper-like skin and deposites of phosphorous on her hands. In theory, she could set her hands on fire.

It was fascinating. This woman had literally been able to catch her hands on fire to defend herself. She might've been able to do more, but it was hard to tell. If Ms. Groves had calloses on her hands, she might be able to withstand the heat she produced. But if she didn't have some kind of insulation, it would be painful to use her powers.

The cells of Snapback were a lot different. They were misshapen because of elastin and collagen sticking out of the cell walls. It made the cells capable of bending wildly out of proportion, only to return to their original shape.

If Barry faints when he doesn't have enough chemical energy and Ms. Groves had been limited by a heat insulator, what if Snapback was the same? There had to be a limit to the amount he could stretch. Or compress.

"Hey, Caitlin," Cisco said. "How's it going?"

"Did Dr. Wells record Barry's fight with Snapback?" Caitlin asked.

"No, but I can probably pull it up," Cisco said. "Why?"

"I want to see how long Snapback stretches," Caitlin said. "I think I found his weakness."

  
"Hungry much?" Iris asked. She was almost ready to offer him another cronut.

"Mostly stress-eating," Barry said. "Listen, you're right. I've been a distant jerk. I'm really sorry, Iris."

"Not _jerk_ ," Iris said. "Mostly just my forgetful best friend. So, what's been going on?"

"I was trying to do some good, but I sucked," Barry said. "I don't know that I can help people. I kept messing up." He traced the rim of his coffee mug.

"Barry, you know how you knew that you wanted to be a forensic whatever when you were in high school?" Iris asked. Barry moping was worse than watching videos about sad puppies. "Well, you went to school and learned how to do your job. You had a probationary period at CCPD that let you make mistakes without stressing. You have to give yourself time to learn how to do...good."

"I guess I sort of just...jumped into things," Barry admitted. Iris sipped her coffee.

"Oh, I figured out what I'm gunna do for my article," Iris blurted out. She pulled out her laptop. "Okay, so it's all over the internet." He was going to love this. The instant she'd seen it, she'd fallen in love with the story, and she knew Barry would love it, too. He grinned, eyes tracing what she was pulling up.

"This is gunna sound crazy," she prefaced. "It's all over the internet. At a building fire. At a bank heist. Oh, look at this one," Iris said. She pulled up a picture of the Streak as taken from a rooftop. There was a gold streak around the base of a _tornado_. "Something out there is saving people."

"I thought you were taking journalism," Barry said quietly. "Not creative writing."

It took a moment for the words to sink in. Iris swiveled her head.

"No," she said. "You did not just say that. You have always believed in the impossible. The fact that you're blowing this off is shady, Barry. You are entering borderline Shady Nerd territory. Is that really something you want to be? Shady Mc Shady Shade?"

"Okay, it's...cool," Barry admitted. "I just...It's bad enough that I'm in up to my eyeballs in weird. Not you, too. Don't be like me, Iris."

A new story popped up. A video of the Streak started playing. The poor thing seemed to catch fire before tumbling across the road. The video cut off there.

"Whoa, when did that happen?" Barry asked, leaning in.

"Five minutes ago," Iris said. "It was in Keystone. But don't you see, Barry? There is something out there saving people." She replayed the video. Normally the Streak was red with gold lightning. Now it was black with blue lightning. She played it again.

Barry's phone buzzed. He lifted it to his ear.

  
Cisco stood back and let Caitlin do her thing. The one where she waved her arms wildly and still managed to be succinct and professional. It was really starting to feel like a superhero team. The four of them working together. Caitlin the hot scientist. She could have that. Cisco would be the cool sidekick.

"You have a limit to your power - how much food you've eaten," Caitlin said. "Snapback does, too. His bones should only allow him to stretch up to forty feet. But stretching for long periods of time will be painful all over. At some point, he'll have to revert. Or pass out from exhaustion."

"And I whipped you up a protein bar to help you keep your energy up," Cisco said, holding it out to Barry. There wasn't much he'd been able to do about taste beyond making it sort of like peanut butter. Hopefully Barry could stomach it.

"How do we figure out where he's going to be?" Barry asked. "How will we know when he strikes?"

"I sicked the Star Labs satellite on that," Dr. Wells said. "I pulled a partial plate from a camera, narrowed down the suspect pool to one, and...he's almost to Stagg Industries."

"We should call it in," Barry said. What? No. He couldn't give up. Not when they'd just given him everything he needed to succeed.

"Barry, the police can't handle this," Joe said. Cisco hadn't even heard him come in. "It's beyond me. It might even be beyond them, too. It's not beyond you. You're the only one with the ability to fight this. I get it - serve and protect.”

Barry ran to his suit and was gone in an instant.

"This is so cool," Cisco said.

  
Barry deposited Simon Stagg in the chair.

"Stay right here," Barry ordered. Charles had almost gotten his huge hands around Mr. Stagg's neck. "Don't open the windows or doors." He ran back to the offices where Charles had been just a moment ago.

A hand gripped his ankle, yanking him off his feet. A foot came out of nowhere, stomping on him. Barry yanked himself free of the hand. He shielded himself with his arm as he ran to the side of the room. It looked like the room was empty, save for the cubicles.

"You don't have to do this, Charles," Barry said. "I know that Gloss Look was a bad product. I know it destroyed parts of your body."

"Not just my body," Charles said. His voice wafted around the room, muffled by cubicles. "My sister died because of that. Stagg and Groves didn't care about what it was doing to the test subjects. They were planning on shutting us up with money. They were still going to release it anyway. And they did."

A hand tightened around Barry's throat, pulling him off his feet. He gripped onto the arm, trying to get himself some air.

"Barry, you have to get free," Joe said. "Make him keep using his power. He'll tire out. You can do this, Barry. You're gunna do this."

It reminded him of some of the pep talks he'd had through the years. The short little bursts teachers would give him. Or like that time when he was six and his dad had given him a chat about not biting.

Barry sank his teeth into Snapback's wrist. There was a yell as the other man let go. Barry watched it recoil, tracing along the back wall before snaking under a desk. It was just like the storage complex. Snapback was using the furniture as a hiding spot. Then he'd attack with his limbs.

If there was no furniture, there wasn't anywhere to hide.

In seconds, the room was clear. Charles Kline lay on the floor, looking much like a caricature. He literally _snapped_ himself back into his normal shape, going for the window. Barry grabbed Charles by the wrist.

"Gotcha," Barry said. Charles jumped out the window, his arm stretching to let him down almost to the ground.

"You gotta be kidding me," Barry groaned. "He's the human slinky." As he spoke, Charles stretched his other arm to grab onto a light pole.

"Pretty good name," Cisco said. "Snapback's better."

"Don't try to speed him up to your window," Dr. Wells warned. "Even elastic things break. You'll have to let him go and speed down to him." Barry braced his foot against the window frame, trying to keep a hold on Charles.

"What if he gets away?" Barry asked.

"He'll only get away if you keep holding him like that," Caitlin said. "The force of his arm returning to its position could send him pretty far. Hurry up before he adds more force."

Barry let go, turning to race down the stairs. He was out the front doors when he saw Charles about to cross right into traffic. The man took a step and was plowed down by a truck. His body skittered across the asphalt.

"No," Barry gasped. He crossed the distance, picking up the slightly elongated body of Charles Kline. There was no pulse. No breath. He'd been trying to do the right thing in such a wrong way. If Barry had been faster, he could've pulled Charles out of the way.

"Barry, are you alright?" Joe asked. Barry snapped out of it, leaving Charles' body to the driver of the truck.

“I'm fine,” Barry said. “It's done.”

  
"I tried to save him," Barry said, staring at the news screen.

"Sounds like he didn't want to be saved," Dr. Wells said. "When some people break, they can't be put back together."

Caitlin inspected the back of her employer. She didn't like how Dr. Wells sounded like he was speaking from personal experience.

“I hope so,” Dr. Wells agreed.

“Well, at least Snapback can't hurt anyone,” Cisco said. Caitlin smiled. It was a good name. Unfortunately, the elasticity hadn't been able to save him from the force of the impact.

“You know, I may be in the suit doing the running, but when I'm out there helping people, you're all out there with me,” Barry said. “I finally realized something. We all got hit by that lighting."

Caitlin smiled back at him. She'd helped prevent a murder. Exposure to the meta-human had opened opportunities to scientific breakthroughs she couldn't have considered before the dark matter wave. She could help people immediately by helping Barry, and she could help them long term here in the lab.

It was not the career she'd imagined. It was not the life she'd pictured for herself. But she could hardly call it a bad life. It could never be called that.

  
It had been far too long. He'd been so busy that he'd almost forgotten all about it. But, he couldn't any longer. Barry logged into Real Truth, a blog site that specialized mostly in the weird and unexplained.

He had masses of messages - user friends that had reached out to him. They were mostly worried that the government had kidnapped him. He sent them all messages saying that he was okay. To only a very, very few, he explained that he'd been in a coma for the last nine months.

Barry checked a few of his favorite posters. Like his friend, Paladin1969. The man was always posting studies that had supposedly been ripped from the internet by pharmaceutical companies. Things like a pill that cured cataracts. Or the first valid male birth control pill. His most recent post - one from today - revealed that Gloss Look had, up until very recently, been killing people. The new formula was just a copy of their old formula, just in a different bottle.

The presence of the study made Barry want to write a new blog. One about himself. About his escapades, just like Iris was doing. Maybe if there was already a blog, Iris wouldn't get caught up in all this weirdness.

Paladin1969 had posted a few more original items. As always, it was very physics-dense. Barry skimmed through them, not really in the mood for the intricacies of time travel. Or 'idle musings' on black holes.

Barry wiped his face. Was creating another blog post really what he needed? Or was it some much-needed sleep?

  
Stagg sipped the rum. A chill crept up his spine. When he turned, Harrison Wells was sitting there. He hadn't been there a second ago.

"Wells," Stagg said. "Who the hell let you in here?"

"I heard you were having a party and forgot to invite me," Wells said.

"Maybe you've seen on TV," Stagg said. He took another sip of his rum. "A...disgruntled test subject tried to kill me."

"A disgruntled test subject with the ability to stretch himself to great lengths," Wells said. "Facing off against a man who could move at impossible speeds." Of course he knew all about this. If someone wanted to know about the latest and greatest technologies, they followed Harrison Wells. Simon had stolen a number of grad students Harrison had been interested in. He had yet to be disappointed in Wells' choice of person.

"You've seen him, haven't you," Stagg said. He wanted outright confirmation. No mincing of words or thin formalities.

Wells smiled, barely containing himself. "Indeed, I have."

"Extraordinary," Stagg said, getting to his feet. "The power he possesses. It's like the gods of old - Mercury on earth." If Wells had seen this man, he knew much, much more than he was letting on. And there was no way Stagg Industries wasn't going to get involved.

"Do you know what you could do?" Stagg asked. "If you could control his power? If you could harness it? You could change what it means to be human."

"You know what else could change the world?" Wells asked. "A suit that allows an individual to look, smell, and sound exactly like the original individual. A suit that allows the wearer to present himself as, say, a washed-out doctor who's currently at home, alone."

Stagg didn't understand. It wasn't like Wells to get off topic with something so...ridiculous. And then Wells stood, and it all became clear.

"So who are you?" Stagg asked, stepping back. A long hand gripped his left shoulder. A knife slid between his ribs.

"Your killer," the man said.

  
Harrison retracted his hand.

In the past decade, Harrison had hardly used his kitchen for more than storing leftovers in the fridge or the microwave to heat them up in the morning. But the past nine months he'd become far more reclusive, becoming reacquainted with the tools he'd once used. He even kept track of them.

So he knew that the missing knife had been taken that day.

Panic shot through him. He checked the dishwasher. As always, it was empty. Harrison never had enough dirty dishes to justify using it. The sink was empty.

 _Someone is trying to frame me_ , he thought. It was paranoid, but ignoring his gut reactions was turning out to be deadly.

He picked up his phone, dialing. Harrison hesitated to press the call button. She didn't want to talk to him. It was late, and even if she was still awake, her anger still rang in his ears nearly two decades later. Besides, she'd probably changed her number.

She let it ring twice before answering.

"Who is this?" she asked. So she'd kept it all these years. He could hear the murmuring of an assistant in the background.

"Tina, it's Harrison," he said. "I hope I didn't wake you."


	3. Breathing Space

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barry and the team have several meta-humans to deal with at once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Upping the rating because I might occasionally touch on darker topics. Not too often, but I don't want it to be too surprising if I throw in cussing or...what I do here. I think it's unrealistic that only one meta-human is encountered at once. I mean, why doesn't Barry ever discover two or three at a time? Just saying.
> 
> The crossover between the two stories with Ana and Iris happened because I wanted to tentatively play with how the stories interact with each other. I don't expect every minor crossover to make it into both stories.

"What are you guys up to?" Barry asked. He hopped up on Cisco's workbench.

"I'm inventing the future for superheros," Cisco said, keeping his eyes on his micro-welding. "Dr. Wells is looking for meta-humans. Caitlin is looking at Snapback's genetic markers."

"What exactly is the 'future for superheros'?" Barry asked.

"Smart fabric," Cisco said, pressing the soldiering material to the plate. He positioned the welder a little to the left and pressed the button. The gun got hot for less than a second before automatically shutting off.

"Don't they make a three hundred dollar hoodie out of that?" Barry asked. "I swear I saw that once."

"That's not smart fabric," Cisco snorted. "That is smart weaving. This is thousands of tiny fiber-like robots that can literally change the size and shape of your suit. Or to help vent heat. Keep you warm. Maybe better monitor your vitals. The possibilities are endless."

"What, seriously?" Barry asked, leaning in closer. Cisco stopped welding in order to let Barry take a look. "How's it going?"

"Not as well as I was hoping," Cisco said. "When this is all said and done, it'll be about as thick as a charging cord. So these are sort of prototypes of the prototypes. I'm gunna have to find the 3D printer and then haul it out of storage."

"I can help you with that," Barry said. He leaned away from Cisco's work.

"Nah, I got the lift," Cisco said. He got up, stretching. "Are you here for testing?"

"Dr. Wells wanted to talk to me," Barry said, getting to his feet. "I should...probably have that discussion."

"You're only a little in trouble," Dr. Wells called. Barry cringed.

"Hey, a little in trouble isn't as bad as setting something on fire in here," Cisco said. "Here, I'll go with you." They went to the main console. Dr. Wells was on Real Truth, the conspiracy website. Cisco went on it occasionally, but mostly to catch wind of obscure scientific discoveries.

Not only that, but Dr. Wells was _signed in_. Cisco could see his username - Paladin1969. Cisco always read his stuff. Paladin1969 always had cool scientific discoveries, musings on time travel, and a magnificent Dad-type sense of humor. And once he'd written a totally kick-ass paper on phasers.

"You're Paladin1969," Barry said.

"And you're telling people about your coma," Dr. Wells said. "You can't be doing that, Barry. I was able to connect a lot of dots before you sent me this note."

"Wait, you knew that I was DejaMu?" Barry asked. He glanced at Cisco, a little sheepish.

"You're DejaMu?" Cisco gasped. His boss was Paladin1969 and his friend was DejaMu. The coincidence was crazy. Barry wrote mostly about some stops in various cities to see if any of it rang true under scrutiny.

"I knew that you were young, probably worked for some kind of law enforcement, and that you live in Central City," Dr. Wells said. "I didn't really connect you to this site until this morning. This isn't Kick-Ass, you can't be making a blog about yourself, Barry."

"I'm not," Barry said.

"Hey, but we could totally record our adventures," Cisco said. "You know, for posterity."

"That's fine, but we can't have an outright...blog," Dr. Wells said. "And...let's try to avoid this." Dr. Wells pulled up a picture of Mardon's tornado. It was caught relatively well, lightning around the base and everything.

"Who took that picture?" Cisco asked. Barry groaned.

"A freelance photographer from Keystone," Dr. Wells said. "If we can avoid getting photographed like this, we should."

"Photographs happen with or without me," Barry said. "But I won't post any blogs about myself."

"And I won't post any blogs about him," Cisco echoed.

"Good," Dr. Wells said. "Oh, Barry, you're going to be late for work."

  
"That meta-human the other day was something," Joe said. "But you're gunna need to take a look at this one."

"Yeah," Barry said, pulling his gloves on. "How do you know it's a meta?"

"Because he shot himself," Joe said.

"So a suicide," Barry said. He wasn't getting it. And he wouldn't. Not until he saw it for himself. Even the other cops were talking about the supernatural.

"Well, death by meta-powers," Joe said. They stepped in past the threshold.

On the floor were two men. They were almost identical from the way they styled their jet black hair to the clothes they wore. The difference was that one was alive, but he wasn't talking. He wouldn't respond at all, and they'd had to cuff him while he lay on the floor. The other was dead, a bullet through his brain.

"What?" Barry asked.

"Danton Black," Joe said. "No record of any brothers. Worked for Simon Stagg until about a year ago when he was fired. His wife passed shortly after. He was going after Stagg pretty hard for stealing his intellectual property."

"What about the twin?" Barry asked. "How's he doing?"

"We're still waiting on a medic," Joe said. "We don't want to move him any more in case he's injured or something."

Barry had a look that was along the lines of how Joe felt. Like the paramedic wasn't going to find a person in there. Just an empty meta-fueled shell.

"I'll do a sweep around the room, see if I can find anything unusual," Barry said. "But I think we're gunna need some backup." Yup. Backup from Star. Meta-human, just like he thought.

  
The more she looked into it, the more she wanted to do it. Iris wanted to start the blog.

She hadn't expected it to happen so fast. It had started as just getting all the information about the Streak into one place. But then she'd started getting her own ideas for pieces on it. And Barry was always on his own sites, looking up stuff just like this. He'd be all about a blog.

All she needed was a picture.

After seeing the picture of the Streak running around the base of the tornado, Iris had tracked down the photographer to a private investigation service. The website for Greyson Investigations had listed a high-speed, long-range camera under the photographer's bio. No photo was available.

"Iris West?"

Iris found herself addressing a smallish woman who looked like she needed a good night's sleep. And maybe some normal clothes. She was in a pair of thick athleticwear and a thick coat, but she still looked cold. It was like looking at a chihuahua.

"Anastasia?" Iris asked.

"Just Ana," she said. "So, you weren't quite clear - what exactly am I going to take a picture of?" Iris pulled out the prints of the pictures she'd found online. Ana flipped through them.

"Have you heard the stories about the red blur going around saving people?" Iris asked. "Robberies where the authorities arrive and the thieves are already tied up? But the thieves don't even know how they got that way? I was hoping that you could help me get a picture of him."

"It sounds like you'd have to be at the scene of a crime to even have a chance at getting a shot," Ana said, still examining the pictures. She wasn't even skeptical of Iris' sanity. Then again, she probably got a lot of weird requests.

"That's why I mapped out the sightings," Iris said. She pulled out a map of Central City. It was littered in colored dots. "The red dots are just sightings. Blue are crime scenes he appeared at."

Ana held the photographs in one hand while she examined the map.

"You keep saying 'he'," Ana said, raising an eyebrow. "Have you actually seen this guy well enough to place gender?"

"No," Iris said. "I just...to me being a superhero is sort of a guy thing. But maybe that's just because my best friend is a nerd....Are you still in?"

"As long as you're still paying," Ana said. "I'll set up shop here." She pointed to a place with only a few dots.

"But there are more sightings here," Iris said, motioning to another spot.

"It's more crowded there," Ana said. "It'll be harder to get a clean shot. Besides, most of the photographs are taken here. It's probably because he's turning the corner. It's a sharp turn. He has to slow down a little."

Ana pulled out a piece of paper and handed it over. Iris looked it over. It was a contract stating that Ana would own the rights to the photographs she took for Iris.

"What if I want to publish them on my blog?" Iris asked.

"It says here that you'll have to contact me for me to give you written permission to publish. You might have to pay a royalty," Ana said.

"But it's for a blog," Iris protested. "I won't be getting any money from it."

"Iris, you want to be a journalist, right? As someone who wants to be an artist, I can tell you that you need to do this for your own work," Ana said. "I haven't gotten the short end of the stick because others warned me early to protect my intellectual property. I'm not going to apologize for trying to protect what's mine."

It was hard to argue with that. Iris wanted to protest that it was her idea for the photo - taking a picture of the Streak. But it was Ana's idea for place of photograph. It was her camera. She'd be taking the picture.

"How much do you usually charge for a royalty?" Iris asked.

"I usually charge blogs twenty bucks," Ana said. "You'll be able to use the picture for ten years, but you can only use it in one publication. The picture will be given to you encoded so that people won't steal it right off your site."

Iris pulled a pen out of her purse and signed.

  
Joe looked up from his desk. Caitlin was there, two folders in hand.

"Hey, did Barry call you already?" he asked.

"No," she said, that suppressed smile on her face. "Dr. Wells thinks he found two more. I was hoping you could get me some more information on them. Why? Does Barry need me?" She handed the files over. Joe skimmed the files.

The first was for a man by the name of Tom Hass. He was mostly known for petty theft. The second was none other than Tony Woodward. Damn.

"He does," Joe said. "Caitlin, if you could hold off mentioning these two to Barry for now, I'd appreciate that."

"Why?" Caitlin asked, glancing at the files again, as if she'd missed something important. But it was something she couldn't have picked up on.

"He used to know one of these guys," Joe said. "It's not a big deal. Just...I need to tell him. I'll get you the information before you leave."

"Sure," Caitlin said, tucking a lock behind her ear. It looked like something she'd picked up from Cisco. "Well, I'll go see what Barry needs."

  
"These are the samples from the Black murder," Barry said. "We had six murders last night, and there's another possible-suicide. I got Singh's signature to hand this off to you."

"What will happen to the clone?" Caitlin asked.

"Well, he'll probably be charged with murder then put in a hospital as brain-dead," Barry said. "I think I could convince them that Star is the place to go."

Caitlin ran her hands over the evidence bags of Black's research.

"He'll never finish what he started," she said. "And if he did, we'll never know."

"You know, since you are technically on this case now, I can let it go with you," Barry said. "You have to sign here." He pulled out the forms to sign. Caitlin grabbed a pen and started.

"As easy as that?" she asked. Barry's phone beeped. It was a text from Iris confirming their movie.

"Yup," Barry said, texting Iris back.

"Well, I should get out of your hair, let you get to work," Caitlin said, dusting her skirt off. "So you can get out of here on time." She closed the lid of the evidence box, taking it carefully into her arms. She carried it away. Maybe she'd rediscover what Black already had.

  
Caitlin dropped the books next to Cisco. He jumped a little. When she said that she played D&D, he hadn't actually thought she'd have more than one or two books. Not...all of them. They were going to have more than enough to do in the down time.

"Dog leash violation?" Barry asked. Caitlin leaned forward, taking control of the mic.

"Bad man in a getaway car," Caitlin said. "Go."

"You know, I wouldn't have pegged you for D&D," Cisco said, picking up a book. "More of a Scrabble person. What do you like playing most?"

"If I can't be the DM, then I prefer Eladrin wizard," Caitlin said. "Or dragonborns."

"Solid," Cisco said. "I like to play a variety. Sometimes I let the dice choose for me, just to make things interesting. What do you think about a gnome sorcerer?"

"It could work," Caitlin said.

"I wonder if Dr. Wells and Barry would join in," Cisco said, still flipping through the book. After all, Dr. Wells called himself 'paladin'.

"Barry has a keychain of dice," Caitlin said. "He totally plays."

"We're going to have a team building day," Cisco said. "And I think you should be in charge of our first team building exercise." Caitlin beamed. She had a great idea for a campaign.

"Hey, guys?" Barry called. Cisco grabbed the mic.

"What's up, dude?" Cisco asked.

"He got away," Barry panted. "The guy got away."

"How?" Caitlin asked.

"You're not gunna believe this," Barry said. "He and his truck sort of just started...floating away. It's hard to explain because I was suddenly feeling heavier." Caitlin met eyes with Cisco. Another meta-human.

  
Harrison had avoided being in public for some time. After a teenager had accidentally-on-purpose spilled hot coffee in his lap on the bus, he'd even avoided going out to lunch. He paid a service in cash to deliver groceries to his door, and he didn't retrieve them until the delivery boy was leaving.

Tina was already waiting there, at the table furthest from the door. He had to traverse the whole dining room with the guests all glancing over at him and whispering. He got more than a few unfavorable glares from people he had the misfortune of meeting eyes with.

Harrison rolled up to his spot across from Tina. She was wearing a nude dress covered in black lace. The waiter stopped by, as if to take Harrison's drink order. Harrison waved him off.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," Harrison said, smoothing down the tablecloth. She was silent in her seat. She didn't accept his apology. And everyone kept staring at them. He had to do this on a stage.

"I want to apologize," Harrison blurted out. "Everything with Tess-"

"I should apologize," Tina said. "I know it wasn't your fault. I know the car shouldn't have moved like that. And you weren't making any sense. I-I wanted to assume the worst of you so that I could have someone to blame."

Harrison had set the dinner up as a ploy - a follow up to a call that would hold as an alibi. He hadn't actually expected Tina to apologize. He played with his silverware, unable to meet her eyes.

"We used to be such good friends, Harrison," Tina said. "Perhaps we can be friends again." Harrison glanced up at her. She was smiling.

"You know my paranoia is through the roof right now," he said.

"Mine is too," Tina admitted. "But, for now, you're more my old friend than you've ever been. I think I can enjoy a meal with you." She slid her hand across the table, touching his fingers with the tips of hers, ever so gently.

For all the things his hubris had taken from him, Harrison had never imagined that he'd get something back. That he might brush his old life once more.

 

\---

  
"Barry called me," Cisco said, strolling in. Dr. Wells and Caitlin looked away from the Mysterious Floating Man case. "It looks like they may have found another meta-" Barry rushed in, blowing all the papers off the desk. He was just as quick to catch and replace them all. He held out a blue file to Caitlin.

"This is the coroner's report for one of the victims," Barry said. "The Darbinyan crime family was killed last night. They look like they stopped being able to utilize oxygen, and we’ve ruled out gas being pumped in from the outside. There were no canisters of gas, and the doors were all locked from the inside."

"What made you think it was a meta-human?" Dr. Wells asked. Cisco came to Barry's side. Barry opened a dark brown folder. Inside were pictures of a table with bodies all around it.

"See how they're all spread out?" Barry asked. "They all started in the same spot. They should've all been effected by the gas at the same time. But they all got away to get different lengths away before they die."

"Fascinating, a meta-human that can manipulate poison gas," Dr. Wells said. Joe walked in.

"Fascinating, and deadly," Joe said, finally catching up with Barry.

"Is it just poison gas, or is it all aerated substances?" Cisco wondered.

"How does he formulate the connection?" Caitlin wondered. "Is it psychological or physiological?" Cisco grinned to himself. Caitlin was starting to bend to the idea superpowers and emotions could be connected.

"This individual can create a mental nexus using gaseous substances," Dr. Wells said.

"He means that this guy connects with gasses on a molecular level," Cisco explained. "Which is ridiculously cool." Cisco met Joe's unamused gaze. Normally, Joe tolerated and even seemed to enjoy Cisco's outbursts. It looked like he'd gotten up on the wrong side of the bed.

"I get really excited about this sort of thing," Cisco said.

"The only thing I get excited about is putting criminals behind bars," Joe replied. "But in this case that's going to be a bit out of Iron Height's wheelhouse."

"It's been fortunate that the ones we've encountered so far are no longer with us," Dr. Wells said. Cisco supressed a shiver. Poor Snapback. He was evil, but he hadn't deserved to die.

"We can't tell anyone about this," Joe said.

"It's one thing to prevent a mugging or a murder," Dr. Wells said. "It is another thing to mete out justice as we see fit."

As with all the superheros, they had to come to terms with their own morality. Where did they fall? Were they black and white? Were there shades of grey that they would venture into? Cisco didn't like the idea of acting like judge and jury, but he wanted to do everything he could to stop evil metas.

"We can't tell anyone about this," Joe said. "The fewer people who know about it, the less people who will get hurt."

"What I hear you saying, detective, is that you want officers to run into a building completely unprepared," Dr. Wells said. It was as if Dr. Wells had thrown down the gauntlet. Caitlin leaned away from Dr. Wells so that she was just out of Joe's glare.

"I don't want them running in there at all," Joe said, the veins in his neck tense.

"And if you can't tell them why they shouldn't, why would they listen to you?" Dr. Wells pressed. "They will serve and protect. By not making them aware, you are setting them up for failure and death."

"We need to protect this city," Barry said, letting go of the CCPD file. Cisco flipped it closed. "We need to keep this guy from killing anyone else."

"At what cost, Barry?" Dr. Wells demanded. "How are we to rightfully imprison an individual if we're all silent about it? How do we rightfully imprison people without the law?"

Cisco couldn't quite decide what he wanted to do. He'd always hoped for super-heroes. And when the Arrow appeared, he thought that would be it. When meta-humans turned up, Cisco went to nerdvana. The chilling effect of Snapback's death reared its head. Reality set in. How did they help people and follow the rules?

"For now, we'll have to put the Floating Man case to the side," Dr. Wells said, gathering that information up. "Barry, Caitlin, focus on isolating the poison. Cisco and I will figure out a way to contain him. We'll figure out the rest later."

  
Joe stared at the screen, mind spinning.

Henry Allen was innocent. Joe had been so consumed with protecting Iris that he hadn't realized that he might be putting a lot of lives in danger. Hadn't realized that he might be pushing kids into committing crimes. Hadn't realized that Henry Allen was an innocent man.

All his life, Joe had fought for justice. It hadn't been until he'd gotten onto the force that he realized that justice - right and wrong - weren't always black and white. Some people wanted to think that way. And sometimes it was cut and dry. But it wasn't always like that.

Letting people know about meta-humans could cause mass panic in the public. During an unfortunate incident during a marathon, the whole city had tried to evacuate without being instructed to. It was estimated that eight people died and two hundred people were injured during the exodus. That was the panic he wanted to avoid.

And then there were the meta-humans who hadn't done anything wrong. Joe had to believe that they were out there, staying hidden. They just lived their lives as if nothing had happened, occasionally helping others. Just because they had powers didn't mean that they should live in a world where people hated them.

Iris' footsteps sent Joe reaching to shut his laptop.

"Do I even want to know what that was?" she asked, not looking towards him. Years ago, he'd taught her not to look at his work so she didn't see anything too grisly.

"Work," Joe lied. "Some old cases weren't filed properly." He shuffled through his old notes. There was a knock.

"Detective, what are you doing here?" Iris asked. Her voice seemed off. When Joe looked up, he caught Eddie's face dropping from warm expectancy to surprise. Joe got up.

"Joe, I...was thinking we could go back to the crime scene and re-canvas," Eddie said. "You know, always work the case, like you taught me. It took me forever to find you. I thought you were at the morgue." Iris seemed a bit...intent on Eddie.

"Sure," Joe said, picking up his coat. "Let's hit it."

"Do you mind if I use your bathroom?" Eddie asked.

"First door on the right," Joe said. "I'll be out in the car." _Trying not to contemplate killing you._

  
Cisco stared into the blackness of the Pipeline. He held his radio, ready to tell Dr. Wells when he'd turned the lights back on.

 _If I'd just waited ten more seconds_ , he thought. There were so many things he could've done differently that night. He knew enough about the Pipeline - it could've been him in there. And then Caitlin and Ronnie could be married and happy.

Some days, it felt like he'd done the right thing. Ronnie had wanted it, and Cisco could breathe easy. But others, Cisco wasn't sure what to do with all the guilt that bore down on him. He wished he didn't make up imaginary scenarios. He wished they didn't play in his mind at night while he waited for sleep to take him.

Cisco touched the side of the hatch. Pain stabbed him through the heart.

_He was disoriented, like waking up from a hangover. He was somehow in a dirty alley. In front of him was a trio of homeless - two men and a woman. One of the men and the woman were old, and they seemed to be trying to offer the third man some money.The third man was as much Ronnie as he wasn't. It was like someone had mixed Ronnie's face with someone else's. Franken-Ronnie._

The lights in the Pipeline snapped on. Cisco was ripped from the alley and back into his body.

"They're on," Cisco panted into the walkie talkie.

"Okay, meet me on the gantry level," Dr. Wells said. "Let's see if we can get this thing to function for a new purpose." Cisco looked at the section of the hatch. It occurred to him that Ronnie would've been touching it at the moment that he died.

  
"So I hear you're a fan of D&D," Barry said. "When did that start?"

"It started when I was in middle school," Caitlin said, sending the electronic reading of the samples through the program. "I had a lot of frizzy red hair, glasses, and braces. When we weren't talking about fantasy, we were delving into science. I fit right in." She smiled at the thought of how young they'd been, how they let their imaginations run wild.

"Tell me, was the satyr your making?" Barry asked, thinking back to a character sheet he'd found in one of the books. She shook her head.

"Ronnie made that one. He was really good at making characters," Caitlin said, smiling warmly. "He could make really silly characters, but then he could play them very seriously. Or vice versa."

"What was Ronnie like?" Barry asked. "You never talk about him." She looked away from his curious gaze. She could still picture his face from that first date.

"He was always reaching out," Caitlin said. "There was no reason we should've done more than cross paths in the hallway. But he noticed that I was a little...closed off, and he made an effort to talk to me. And then one day we went to coffee."

Warmth gripped her as she recounted it. "He thought it was a date and I thought he was being nice. When he asked me for a second date, I realized that I'd gotten it wrong. I guess...I was able to open up to him because he was so...slow and gentle and steady. Sure, he turned my life upside down, but...even then, there was stability in the madness."

Caitlin had spent her whole life in a safe bubble, only dreaming of wonderous things. She'd turned to genetics because it was both wondered and ordered. But Ronnie was the one who had shown her fantasy in the real world - coral reefs and foods from forgein lands. And now he was gone, and there was no one to stand beside her in the expansive, beautiful universe.

"I really loved him," she concluded. Beside her, the printer started up. She picked it up.

"There was no residue of gas in the tissue," Caitlin said, shrugging off the conversation. She didn't want to be messy in public. "Poisonous or otherwise."

"It must've evaporated," Barry said. "We'll have to get a fresh sample." Caitlin re-read the results more closely.

"This can't be right," Caitlin said, coming around the desk. "This says that there are two distinct strands of DNA in the sample you gave me."

"How did someone else's DNA get inside the victim's lungs?" Barry asked. "Let's run it through the database, see if we get any hits." He took the DNA from the processing, feeding it into the criminal registry.

"More waiting," Caitlin sighed. She leaned against a table. On top was a binder of mugshots with Tom Hass staring at her. "Oh, the Floating Man."

"Tom Hass," Barry said. "I thought we could look at him when we're done with this...gas-meta. Wait, you knew about him?"

"I must've forgotten to mention it," Caitlin lied. "Dr. Wells figured it out yesterday." The computer pinged. She leaned in, more confusion in her when she saw it.

"There's no match in the database," Caitlin said. "That doesn't make any sense. How did a chemical attack leave someone else's DNA in the victim's lungs?" Even if by some chance the victim inhaled the murderer's blood, the chances of them getting enough white cells to run a DNA test was impossible.

"What if - what if he turns into gas," Barry said. "And that his gaseous state is poisonous."

The scanner crackled to life. "All available units. Toxic gas reported at Central City Shopping Mall."  
Barry stripped off his gloves on his way to a locker.

"Barry, don't," Caitlin pleaded, grabbing his arm. "We don't know enough about what we're up against. It's not safe."

"Caitlin, I have to go," he told her. "I have to make sure Central City is safe." He left her there, deja vu washing over her with the gust of wind. She huffed.

  
Cisco leaned near the mic.

"I patched into the mall's security system," he said. "Witnesses say it happened in the main elevator in the north wing."

"Which one is the north wing?" Barry asked. Cisco's mind blanked on what was there. He barely went to the mall for anything but videogames. And even those he ordered online.

"The one with the Big Belly Burger," Dr. Wells said.

 _Dr. Wells goes to the mall?_ Cisco wondered. Dr. Wells noticed his stare.

"I eat," he said, as though that explained why he went to the mall for Big Belly Burger of all things. Until that moment, Cisco thought that Dr. Wells ate things like caviar and olives and imported chocolate on his own time.

"Why did you kill that woman?" Barry demanded. Cisco switched his camera feed. Maybe he could figure out a way to get a facial recognition program on the Star Labs server. No. There were no cameras where Barry had gone.

"She deserved to die," the man said, voice level and monotone. "I have one more name on my list." It sounded like there was a scuffle on the other end. Cisco could only guess that Barry had attacked the meta-human. Or perhaps dodged and attack. Cisco ran his hands through his hair.

Barry's vitals started to decline. Quickly.

"Barry," Cisco called. "Barry."

He wasn't responding. Cisco waited. Barry was strong. He could do this. He could make it through whatever this meta threw at him.

"Barry," Dr. Wells said, the lines on his face deepening. "Barry, can you hear me?"

"Dr. Wells, his vitals are weak, but he's still alive," Cisco said, heart skipping a beat. If even Wells was worried about Barry, there might actually be something to fear. "I'm sure he's fine."

Barry whipped in, coughing and hacking. He leaned against the desk, reaching for Dr. Wells and Cisco. Dr. Wells supported Barry. "I can't breathe."

"He needs oxygen," Dr. Wells snapped. "Get the crash cart." Cisco rushed over to Caitlin's medical workspace. He knew how to work all the equipment, but actually applying them to a human was another story. He pulled the crash cart around to the hospital bed.

Dr. Wells rolled around, Barry slung over his lap. Cisco helped him get Barry onto the bed. Cisco grabbed for the oxygen, putting the mask to Barry's mouth.

"What's going on?" Caitlin demanded. Her heels clacked faster over the tile. Barry motioned across his chest. She went to his side, grabbing his hand.

"Cut me open," he wheezed. "Poison still in me."

"He brought us a sample," Dr. Wells said. "We need to do a pulmonary biopsy to extract an active portion of the gas."

"I can't give you any anesthetic," Caitin said, shaking the hand she held, as if to somehow transfer what she was saying to the writhing man.

"Hurry," Barry gasped, grabbing at his jacket. He pulled it away, as if to give her a better view.

"Do it," Dr. Wells said.

"Cisco, hand me a syringe," Caitlin said, yanking off her jacket. Cisco picked one up. It didn't even feel real. "This is going to hurt a lot."

"It's a small needle," Cisco reasoned, trying to assure Barry. "You probably won't even feel it."

"You're definitely going to feel this," Caitlin said.

  
Barry groaned and stirred. Cisco was glad that he'd had time to clear away the worry from his face.

"The Streak lives," Cisco said, grinning. Barry blinked against the harsh light. Cisco faced the lamp away.

"You'd be dead if your lung cells didn't regenerate so fast," Caitlin said. "You could've-"

"I didn't," Barry said.

"Now that we have a sample, we can get to work analyzing it," Dr. Wells said. "Find up the makeup of the poison. Maybe get a clue as to his human identity."

"Or find a way to keep him from turning into a mist," Cisco said. It was perfect. "The Mist. That's his name. End of discussion." Barry got to his feet.

"Where are you going?" Cisco asked. "What about the Mist? Or Gravitron? You know, the Floating Man? I had to rename him."

"Great, what did he do?" Barry demanded.

"He robbed Keystone National Bank," Dr. Wells said. "And he would've gotten away, except he was interrupted by a man who appears to be immune to that particular meta-ability. A lot of people went to the hospital for broken bones. Tom Hass just upgraded from nuisance to potentially lethal."

Barry rubbed his face. It was a lot to take on. He'd probably need some rest while the team worked on the problem.

"Do we think he could be an immediate threat?" Barry asked. "I mean, can we catch the Mist first and leave Gravitron for later?"

"You worry about the Mist," Dr. Wells said. "I'll work on Tom Hass."

  
Joe flipped through the file, trying to find the connection.

He rubbed his eyes. It was late. He'd spent hours staring at pages, trying to figure out who the meta-human could be. If Barry didn't show up soon, he'd have to go home.

"Joe," Barry said, storming in at the pace of a normal person. "I had him. The meta-human. We were wrong. He's not controlling toxic gas. He can transform himself into poison gas."

Joe had swallowed Barry's abilities. But this...this was something else. "That's...new."

"The victim was a judge," Joe said, holding up the file. "We're going through some of her old cases to see if there's a connection."

"It's too late," Barry said. He had that look that new detectives got after their first killer on the loose. "I should've been faster."

"Focus on the job," Joe said, trying to find the words that would help. "Don't think about that right now."

"You don't wanna know what I'm thinking about," Barry said, going to the window. He rested his weight on the box of evidence from his mother's murder. Now was the time he needed to say that more than ever. Joe had watched a lot of detectives buckle under their first killer on the loose.

This was hardly Barry's first rodeo. But it was the first one where he was the 'detective'. He was the one who was tracking this man down. Barry was the one who'd capture him. He'd never done that before. Not like this.

"My dad has spent fourteen years in a six-by-eight foot cell for a crime that he didn't commit," Barry said. Joe shook his head, hoping Barry wasn't going down that road. "I couldn't save my mom, but I can save him."

"Didn't I promise you that we would get your dad out of prison together?" Joe asked.

"I don't need your help, Joe," Barry said, turning around. Oh, he was going there. "I could be in and out of there with him before anyone even sees me."

"Okay, you break him out of there," Joe replied, sitting on the edge of Barry's desk. Barry followed suit, like they were actually hatching a plan. "Then what? He's on the run for the rest of his life. Something tells me he's not as fast as you."

"You don't know what it's like there," Barry said. Joe smiled for lack of a better expression to offer his foster son.

"You think I don't understand what you're feeling?" Joe asked. He'd always avoided telling Barry and Iris about his family. But this problem went beyond just wanting to break family out of prison. "I have been a cop for almost as long as you've been alive. Putting on that suit does not make everyone safe. For every person you save, there's someone out there you can't."

A little deja vu swept over him as he continued. "The worst thing you're gunna face out there is not gunna be some monster with powers. It's gunna be the feeling of uselessness when you can't do anything...or the guilt that weighs on you when you make a mistake."

Barry folded his arms across his chest.

"Some things can't be fought the way we want to," Joe said. "Sometimes we can't fight at all. We have to live with them."

  
Iris was chickening out.

When she'd woken up this morning, it had seemed like a good idea. But now anxiety curled in her stomach. This was a big step for her. She'd never done anything like this before. And even when similar situations had happened, it was the guy doing it. She'd always rejected them.

After the way she'd treated Eddie, why shouldn't he turn her away?

"Red streak at the mall during the gas attack," Eddie said, looking rather bored. He was doodling on his detective's pad. "Thank you for calling." He hung up, sighing. Iris knew she couldn't leave before she heard more about the Streak for her blog.

"Never fails," Eddie said, a little smile. "Tip lines bring out the potheads and the crazies."

"Did they get a good look at the Streak's face?" Iris asked. Maybe he knew the man in yellow from Barry's house that night.

"Not you too," Eddie said, face not even falling a little. He got to his feet. "What are you doing here anyway?"

No matter how much she wanted to run, that great smile and kind eyes needed to know. He needed to know how she really felt. "I thought about what you said and-"

"I know what you're gunna say," Eddie interrupted. "I understand. I'm your dad's partner."

"No, no, you don't understand," she said, trying to find the words that would make him understand her. "I've never really had a serious boyfriend. Between Dad and Barry and work and school, my life has been full. And I really like you, but I thought that if I told my dad, then it would become real, something that I could loose or screw up."

He gave her a tight smile. She could see the pain in his eyes. He was trying so hard to cover it up with a smile, but there was definitely emotion there. "I wanted it to be real."

He started turning away. He still didn't get it? After she'd done everything to spell it out for him? She grabbed his shoulders, spinning him into a kiss.

  
She'd tried to hide. She'd always hated the stereotype of crying in the bathroom. Caitlin had used the room now used to house the treadmill for crying. It was inevitable that Barry would intrude, completely unaware that she preferred to be alone.

"I didn't mean to scare you the other day," he said. "I know you worry."

"I get it," Caitlin said. "You had to go. But...that was one of the last things Ronnie said to me that night." She was still trying to understand why he was the one who had to go down to the Pipeline.

"My mother died fourteen years ago," Barry said. "I used to think that the further away I got from it, the less it would hurt. But some days the pain... is worse than the day it happened. It hits you from your blind spot, and there's nothing you can do. There are some things you can't fight."

Barry somehow put to words what she'd experienced after losing her father. Maybe he knew how to convey it because he'd had longer to think on it. So she found herself admitting her weakness to Barry. "Sometimes I wish that he hadn't been there that night."

"He was a hero that night," Barry said. "He saved a lot of lives that night."

"I didn't want him to be a hero," Caitlin said, trying to hold back the tears. "I wanted him to be my husband."

"Barry, Caitlin," Cisco called. "We've got something."

  
"Who is it?" Barry asked as he and Caitlin rounded the corner. "Mist or gravity?"

"Both," Cisco said. He jerked his thumb at the screens. "This is a three-D model of the gas we got from your lungs. And over there is Gravitron's predicted hideout."

"Who do we go after?" Barry asked. Gravitron's hideout was in Keystone.

"Tom Hass doesn't seem to be the brightest crayon," Dr. Wells said. "I don't think he'll be moving. More interesting - and presently dangerous - is the toxin. It's hydrogen cyanide with a sedative mixed in."

Barry ran a hand through his hair. "Check to see if anyone was executed the night of the explosion." Caitlin went to her computer.

"That sedative is given to prisoners on death row before they go to the gas chamber," Barry said. "There, they breathe in hydrogen cyanide."

"There was someone executed,” Caitlin said, pulling up a profile. "Kyle Nimbus."

"That's him," Barry said.

"He was a hitman for the Darbynian crime family," Caitlin said. "They turned on him and testified. The presiding judge was Theresa Howard. She sentenced him to death."

"He must've been in the gas chamber when the explosion happened," Cisco said.

"The records state that the execution was completed," Caitlin said.

"That's why he wasn't in the database - it only keeps the records of the living," Barry said. "Check the arrest record. Who caught him? That could be his next victim."

  
Barry tried to swing at Nimbus. His fist went right through him. Again. Nimbus burst into a green cloud, and Barry turned tail.

"How do I fight someone who can turn into a gas?" Barry demanded.

"Are there any air conditioners around you?" Dr. Wells asked.

"Seriously?" Barry asked. He expected that from Cisco. "Any real advice?"

"Well, it sort of was," Dr. Wells said. "Any kind of air-suction should re-direct his gaseous phase. You should be able to windmill your arms if you need to blow him away. It's sixty out right now. His gaseous phase will be more unstable. It should be very tiring to stay that way for long." Of course.

Barry slowed and stopped, letting Nimbus nearly catch up before running again. Nimbus was fast. Barry just thanked his lucky stars that he wasn't a clear gas. He kept the game up for a few rounds. The fifth try, Nimbus got too close for comfort. Barry whirled his arms in circles, blowing Nimbus back a bit.

That was when Nimbus re-formed. He came at Barry again, trying to turn into a gas. Nimbus tried to encircle the speedster. The problem with gas was that it could be ran through. Once again, Nimbus re-formed. He wheezed on the ground.

"I'm not going to let you kill again," Barry said. Nimbus lunged. Barry hit him across the face. He'd never outright hit anyone like that before. It wasn't like TV where Nimbus just fell over, unconscious. Nimbus kept coming at him.

"Uh, I didn't knock him out," Barry said, dodging fists. "What do I do?"

"I just googled it," Cisco said. "Uh, it looks like the best way is to hit him under the jaw. You have to do it sort of hard and at just the right angle." Barry tried it. He worried that the impulse would break something. It didn't. But Nimbus did go down. All of his edges were solid. No gas leaked from his mouth or anything.

"Guys, I got him," Barry said.

  
Her dad lay in the bed, wires coming out the top of his hospital gown.

"Daddy," Iris said, flopping onto his big chest. His arms wrapped around her, hugging her tight. If he could almost squeeze the air out of her, that was a good sign.

"Oh, baby, it's good to see you," he said, letting her go. He made his 'I'm about to bust you' face at Eddie. "You two arrive at the same time?" Iris met Eddie's panicked look. They'd decided to go public with this. But they hadn't even talked about how they wanted to broach the topic.

"Dad, we have something to tell you," she said, putting her hand on Eddie's arm. Her boyfriend was extra tense, like he was about to bolt.

"You two are dating," he said, eyes half-lidded.

"You know?" Iris asked. How did he know? They'd been so careful not to drop any hints, even trying to stay in character around Barry.

"I am a detective, remember?" he said. Iris sighed, a little happy. "And both of you are lousy liars."

"So you're not mad?" Eddie asked. Iris' heart started to sink. She really wished he hadn't asked that. There was precedence for her not wanting to tell her dad. Her first high school boyfriend had been walked through each step of how a handgun was cleaned.

"Oh, I'm mad," Joe said, making Eddie's smile fall. "If the doctor hadn't confiscated my gun, we'd be having an entirely different conversation." Iris chewed her lip. She wished she'd warned him about that question. Although, if Eddie already knew how to clean a gun or how chemicals could be used to get rid of a body, she wasn't really sure how her dad could intimidate him.

"I'll just...let you two talk," Eddie said, backing out of the room.

Her dad sighed. "Iris, this is going to be complicated. You know I don't like complicated."

"I'm sorry," she said. "I should've told you that I was dating your partner."

"Do you like him?" he asked. She nodded, grinning like an idiot. Eddie made her feel like she could jump over the moon.

"Then there's nothing to be sorry about," he said. "And I will do my damnedest not to shoot him." She bent over and hugged him.

He wasn't shy about telling her how much he loved her or how proud of her he was. His over-protectiveness was his secondary way of telling her the very same thing. It had always been annoying - Iris was a big girl and could take care of herself. But he seemed like he was learning to let her.

"I love you, Daddy," she said.

  
It had been at least twenty minutes after Iris left that Dr. Wells showed up. He had a bottle and a pair of glasses in his lap.

"As a cop, I have to advise you against drinking and driving," Joe teased. Dr. Wells chuckled as he set the glasses on Joe's table. He started pouring for them both.

"I hear that you're just here for observation," Dr. Wells said. "And we have some things to discuss. I thought I might try to...make amends. We're both just trying to keep what we love safe." Dr. Wells took a sip from his glass. Joe did the same. It was probably the smoothest rum he'd ever tasted.

"Caitlin is one of the most intelligent women I've ever met, and that's saying something," Wells said, gesturing with his glass. "I've met women from across the globe in STEM, and Caitlin makes the cut. In the world of genetics, she's fairly well known. Even with the stench of Star still on her, I'm sure she could get a job in any lab she wanted. Cisco is just as brilliant. He knows technology inside and out. He makes mental leaps that even in my brightest moments could never have done. I would do anything to keep them safe. I imagine that the way I feel about them is the way you feel about Barry and Iris."

It was strange to hear that from Wells of all people. That he was...paternal. Although, the 'anything to keep them safe' did seem to hold an air of darkness that Joe wouldn't use when talking about his children.

"Right now, those kids are running things all by themselves," Wells said. "And, I'm more than happy to let them be in charge. But they are looking to us for wisdom, and we're giving them two distinct arguments. So, in an effort to unify our message, I have...reconsidered my stance on vigilantism."

"Hold on, hold on," Joe said. "You say 'vigilantism' and I think of the Arrow. I don't want any killing."

"Agreed," Wells said, pulling out a small, leather bound book. "I don't want Barry killing anyone, either. That's a good place to start." He scribbled that down.

"You want to capture these meta-humans and....hand them over to the cops with the technology to contain them?" Joe asked. "And I want to capture them in secret and....hold them in secret." It was difficult to realize that what he wanted was unlawful imprisonment. He took a sip of the rum.

Wells looked like he was chewing on some arguments and demons over in his chair. He had his lip caught between his teeth and staring at the line he'd written in the little book.

"So how do we decide what to do?" Joe asked.

"Compromise," Wells said. "Find common ground. We ask ourselves the tough questions so when those kids come to us with the very same ones, we can be strong for them."

Joe saw it. Harrison Wells in another life. Harrison Wells, not a scientist, but a dad. A husband with a minivan in the suburbs. He wanted to provide for his kids in more than just being their meal ticket. He wanted to be the source of their sense of safety. Wells wanted to be knowledge and comfort to his children.

So that's why Cisco and Caitlin cared so much.

"So where do we start?"


	4. Partners in Crime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a new meta-human in town. Barry and Caitlin face

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEW THING! Every time I have a new day, I’m going to put “---”. Even as the person who wrote it, the passage of time is sometimes confusing.

Barry kicked the door in. Joe had called in saying there was a weird attempted murder in progress. There was something about the neighbors being unable to get into the apartment, and a piano had gone out the window.

 

Inside were two men. One held a knife held out like he was going to do damage. But the other's hands looked like they were warped by the special effects out of a movie. The second man lifted his hand, throwing Barry back into the hallway.

 

"Is everything okay?" Cisco asked.

 

"Yeah," Barry grunted. "I found another meta-human." He pulled the man with the knife out of the apartment, depositing him on the sidewalk before returning.

 

"You picked the wrong guy to mess with," the man hissed. Barry found himself being shoved into the wall. But it wasn't like when Gravitron used his powers. You couldn't see gravity. And gravity moved all over. This Barry could see; it was shaped like a hand and pushed only one part of his body.

 

Barry braced a foot on the wall perpendicular to himself, pushing himself out from beneath the hand. He rushed at the man, dodging warped air as it swiped by, almost as fast as he was. He didn't see the one come from behind to smack him squarely. He rolled past the meta-human, clutching his head. The meta-human didn't stop to insert dialogue that would give Barry time to recover. That's when he started wailing harder.

 

"Barry, get out of there!" Cisco urged.

 

 _No shit_ , Barry thought. He found a second of reprieve, and it was enough to shoot a leg out, sweeping the meta off his feet. As Barry rose, the meta did a ninja flip onto his feet. With it came a wave that hit Barry right in the face-

-

Barry jolted up. He couldn't have been out for more than a few seconds. He slipped out onto the fire escape before the cops got there.

 

He wiped the blood off his lip. He was going to need learn how to fight if he was going to keep taking on meta-humans.

 

"It's you," Iris said. Barry stepped back behind the central air unit. "Don't be afraid." Iris had seen him. She obviously hadn't gotten a good look at him or she'd have called him out already. He vibrated his face, peeking out from behind the unit. She was still there, smiling.

 

Barry found himself smiling back. He nodded to her and left.

 

 

"Cisco, there's nothing wrong with you," Caitlin said. "What is this really about?" He rubbed his sweating palms on his pants. He wished he could find the words to let her know that he was why Ronnie wasn’t with them.

 

"Well, the other day, when Dr. Wells and I were making the containment system, and, well, I touched the wall and saw something," Cisco said.

 

"What do you mean?" Caitlin asked. "Like, a rat in the Pipeline?"

 

"I hallucinated or something," Cisco said. "I was in an alley, and there were these homeless people there. And I saw Ronnie. But he wasn't really Ronnie. It's hard to explain."

 

"I see him too, sometimes," Caitlin said. "I-I still hear him coming in late at night sometimes. And then I get up to see, and there's not even someone breaking into my apartment. Just a trick of the mind."

 

"This wasn't like that," Cisco insisted. "I used to have stuff like that, too. This wasn't the same. I felt disoriented. I'd never been to that place before, but it still felt _real_. And I was touching the wall where-" He stopped talking. He sounded like he needed to be in an institution. Caitlin chewed her lip, staring into space.

 

Cisco let her think for a full minute before he said. "So?"

 

"This has only happened once?" Caitlin asked. Cisco nodded. "Well, we could wait and see if it happens again. And if it does, we can start monitoring you. Or we can start monitoring you now."

 

"I'd rather monitor now," Cisco said. Caitlin got up, pulling some of her toys off her shelves. She grabbed a headset, electrodes, and a monitor. "This won't tell us specifics about what's going on, but it'll rule out things like seizure. I'll run a tox screen on you now in case it was a hallucinogenic that's still in your system."

 

"It was last week," Cisco said. Caitlin started snapping the headset on him.

 

"Yes, but maybe we'll find a trace," Caitlin said. "Or your bloodwork could indicate something. You should try to wear this in your sleep if you can. Maybe we can figure out what's going on faster." Cisco wasn't sure it would be too hard to sleep with it on later.

 

\---

 

She wasn't really reading Black's research any more. Not after the morning she'd had. Cisco had called her saying that he hadn't slept much with the monitor on, and he was going to be late. So the job of caring for Kyle Nimbus had fallen on her shoulders.

 

"So, how soon are you planning on giving me your ultimatum?" Dr. Wells asked. Caitlin looked up.

 

"What?" Caitlin asked.

 

"You're upset," Dr. Wells said, matter-of-factly. Since Gravitron's disappearance, he'd been focusing on trying to catalogue the meta-human cases, trying to find patterns and identities.

 

"Why couldn't we put him in one of the cells then hand the cell over to the police?" Caitin asked. Dr. Wells leaned back, sliding the keyboard away from himself.

 

"We'll say that we have a battery that could power his cell for the amount of time it would take to prosecute him," Dr. Wells said. "What if he makes bail? What if the police don't believe that he can turn himself into a gas and put him in a normal cell?"

 

It was hard to argue against that. But that didn't stop the feeling of being dirty. It felt like there was no right way to go about things. They could put all the amenities in the cell and provide entertainment, but containing a human - even a sick murderer - couldn't sit right in her heart.

 

"There's nothing we can do?" Caitlin asked. Dr. Wells itched beneath his ear.

 

"Talk to Barry and Cisco," Dr. Wells said. "See if there's a solution the three of you can live with." Caitlin nodded. She'd been meaning to ask Cisco what he thought. And there was no way Barry could approve of this. They would see how this was wrong.

 

She could be satisfied with this for now. With all of Black's research, she wanted to do some of her own.

 

"Speaking of Barry, I was thinking that we could map his abilities. If we know what he can do, maybe we'll have some insight into other aspects of his abilities," Caitlin said.

 

"It's a very good idea," Dr. Wells said. "Maybe he'd let us map his DNA."

 

"Oh, that sounds fun," Caitlin said. Working with genes again. Maybe discovering the very thing that gave Barry his powers. Or what gave everyone their powers.

 

 

"Coffee break," Iris said, poking Barry in the kidneys. He jolted away. "Sorry, did I jab you too hard?"

 

"I'm just a little sore," he said. "What's up?" He shuffled his papers around, sorting through evidence bags.

 

"So, last night there was an attempted murder," Iris explained. "The one on ninth? I heard there was a certain Streak there. I was hoping you could give me a little more information." Barry snorted. He pulled a sweater out of a bag and laid it on one of his work stations.

 

"I can't tell you about a pending investigation," Barry said, picking up some tweezers. He pulled a massive magnifying glass over the sweater. "You're not even supposed to be in here."

 

"Seriously, Mr. Blabbermouth? What's the difference between now and all the other times I've been in here listening to a 'pending investigation'?" Iris asked. Barry glanced at the door.

 

"The fact that Singh is pissed about this case," Barry said. "The victim won’t talk. The perp got away. The Streak was seen at the crime. And I'm still trying to make sense of it all. And why do you need to know? Isn't your paper done?"

 

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about," Iris said. "I'm making a blog about him." Barry groaned. He set down the tweezers and stripped off his gloves. He took Iris' hands in his.

 

"Iris, I'm begging you, don't make this blog," Barry said. "It's not a good idea. There are so many weirdos on the internet."

 

"Iris," Joe called. He stood in the doorway, not entering the lab. She knew that look. Iris was so rarely on the receiving end of that look that she'd almost forgotten what it was like. She left Barry to join her dad in the doorway.

 

"Officer Vukavich saw you at the crime scene," Joe said. "Listen, Iris, you cannot go to every crime scene to babysit Eddie. He's a grown man." While Barry telling her not to do the blog was a little unusual, what would be more unusual would be her dad supporting it.

 

"I know, I know," Iris said. "I was in the area and saw the cruisers. I'm sorry. I should've stayed out of the way." Joe raised an eyebrow and a finger as if to say 'you do that'. He left, probably to catch the attempted murderer. Iris went back to Barry who was plucking hairs off the sweater.

 

"I'm really excited about this blog," Iris said. "I'll make it anonymous, so don't worry. But what I'm really excited about is the picture."

 

"Picture?" Barry asked, not looking up from his work.

 

"You know that picture of the lightning around the base of that tornado? Well, I hired the photographer to take a picture of the Streak," Iris said. "Isn't that cool?"

 

"And what'll happen when she doesn't get the shot?" Barry asked. He plucked a hair off and placed it in a Petri dish.

 

"She'll get it," Iris said. "And I'll prove to you that the Streak exists."

 

"I've been looking into the impossible all my life," Barry said. He set the dish to the side and misted luminol over the shirt. "Sometimes what really, really seems amazing and real isn't." He started going over the sweater with the black light.

 

Barry used to think anything was possible. He dreamed the biggest dreams. He talked about the impossible every day. He had hope that he'd catch his mother's killer. It was like that hope had dimmed.

 

"Well, I hope you're ready to eat your words," Iris said. "I'll see you later." She was going to prove him wrong - there was still hope.

 

 

"Okay, so you weren't clear, this wasn't Gravitron?" Cisco asked.

 

"No," Barry said. "This wasn't the same guy. He had a different power. I didn't have gravity working on me. This was...like a force field." It sounded like something from a TV show.

 

"Telekinesis?" Caitlin asked. "Telekinetic? Is there a difference?" She wondered if she was asking a stupid question.

 

"One is a noun, the other is a verb," Dr. Wells said. "So, macro-telekinetic who’s strong enough to hurt you.”

 

"If I knew how to fight, I could've taken him on," Barry said.

 

"I taught you how to throw a punch when you were twelve," Joe said, folding his arms. "What happened to those scuffles at school?"

 

"It's a little different when your opponent can hit you from behind while being in front of you," Barry said. "And it's been a while since I fought someone. At least on an even playing field."

 

"This guy is James Stockton," Joe said. "He doesn't have anything too bad. He was charged as a teenager, but the records have been sealed. Other than that, he's a pretty stand-up guy. The victim, Caleb Flowers, was apparently very close to Stockton."

 

"What went wrong?" Caitlin asked. Beside her, Dr. Wells' phone rang. He picked it up.

 

"Whatever it was, Caleb isn't saying," Joe said. "Since we're not charging him with anything, we can't hold him. We have a detail outside his apartment at his girlfriend's request."

 

"You're shitting me!" Dr. Wells exclaimed, looking between Barry and Cisco. He was still on the phone, a half smile on his face. "Hold on." He pressed the phone to his chest.

 

"If the two of you are pranking me, I suggest you stop now," Dr. Wells said, deeply serious.

 

"We're not pranking you," Cisco said. Dr. Wells nodded, put the phone to his ear, and backed out of the room.

 

"So what do we do?" Caitlin asked. As soon as they knew how to catch Stockton, she could talk to them about Nimbus. "We don't exactly know how his power works."

 

"Well, first we have to find him," Joe said. "Eddie and I are gunna run down some leads today. Maybe a family member has something to say."

 

"We could work on teaching you how to fight," Cisco said. "Karate kid style." He mimed 'wax on, wax off'.

 

"I have to get back to work," Barry said. "But I'll look into a teacher or something."

 

"I wanted to talk about Nimbus," Caitlin blurted out.

 

"I'm so sorry, Caitlin," Cisco said. "I should've been here. That's my fault."

 

"No, that's not the issue," Caitlin said. She chewed her lip. "I don't want to keep a human being in our basement. That's solitary confinement."

 

"What else are we supposed to do?" Barry asked. "We can't let them run free."

 

"Solitary confinement is cruel, Barry," Caitlin said. He had to have seen the studies. "Maybe we can do something to help transition him from being kept here to being kept in Iron Heights. There have to be options to explore." She looked to Cisco for an appeal. He was rubbing his face, trying to stay awake.

 

"Listen, Caitlin, we can't tell anyone about meta-humans just yet," Barry said. "People would panic if they knew that there were people who can control the weather or gravity. If I didn't read comics growing up, I'd probably freak out in a very bad way."

 

 _But why can't we tell people?_ Caitlin thought. People weren't just going to lose their minds just because they found out that someone could move real fast. People could be surprising. And if people like Gravitron kept displaying their powers in public, people were going to notice.

 

Joe checked his phone. "Bear, Singh wants you back on the Stockton case."

 

Barry shook his head and followed Joe out the door. Caitlin grit her teeth. She wasn't just going to let him dodge this easily. She wasn't just going to sign off on this anymore.

 

 

"Come on, Caleb, you said you’d give us something,” Eddie said. “If Stockton is a danger to others, you have to tell us.”

 

Caleb rubbed his hands together, a motion that was no longer hindered by handcuffs. While Joe had been consulting with Star, Eddie had been wearing down Caleb’s lawyer. Finally, Mrs. Bonnet had agreed to giving them time. The same Mrs. Bonnet known for keeping clients out of interrogation rooms.

 

“It’s my fault,” Caleb pleaded.

 

“Caleb,” Mrs. Bonnet snapped. “I suggest you don’t continue with that sentence.”

 

“I’m not assuming the fault was something illegal,” Eddie said quickly. “Maybe rude, but not illegal. Isn’t that right, Caleb?”

 

“Yeah,” Caleb said. Mrs. Bonnet pursed her lips and said nothing more. “I slept with his girlfriend, Kiya. Ex-girlfriend. You said you wouldn’t tell anyone about this.”

 

“I said we’d leave your girlfriend out of it unless we have no more leads,” Eddie said. “Talk to me about Kiya. Do you think she’d be in trouble?”

 

“I-I don’t know,” Caleb said. “I saw her a couple days ago. But for all I know, he’s already killed her.” Caleb rubbed his hands over the back of his neck. If he thought Stockton would just go away if he didn’t address the situation, he was gravely wrong. Then again, maybe he wasn’t thinking right after he saw a man lift things with his mind.

 

“We’ll send a uniform to go check in on her,” Eddie assured him. “Can you tell me more about where we could find Stockton?”

 

Eddie kept gently grilling Caleb until Mrs. Bonnet stood up and started gathering her things. Eddie held the door for the two of them. Joe left the viewing room to meet Eddie in the hallway.

 

“Well that went well,” Eddie grumbled. “All we get is Stockton’s girl?”

 

“That’s all we need for now,” Joe said. “How’d you get Bonnet to let Caleb in the interrogation room?”

 

“Mrs. Bonnet didn’t know that I was the detective on Caleb’s case,” Eddie said, grinning. “I started telling her about how I’m taking Iris out next week to visit the museum. She wants to see the Khandaq Dynasty diamond. Mrs. Bonnet was more willing to listen when I told her that I didn’t want to charge Caleb with obstruction.”

 

Joe recoiled inside. He didn’t want to hear about his baby girl going on dates. Especially not with his partner. And knowing that they were tracking a meta-human wasn’t helping. Joe knew he was in full Stone Face mode. Eddie’s smile dropped.

 

“Listen, Joe, I don’t want my relationship with Iris to affect our working relationship,” Eddie said. Oh, that was rich. How could it not affect them?

 

“Listen, as long as you don’t talk about the two of you, you and me will be cool,” Joe said. “Got it?” Eddie nodded, resigned.

 

 

Joe didn't like him. That had been more than obvious prior to Fred Chyre's death – it had been Joe who started the ‘Detective Pretty-Boy’ nickname that had stuck. And then Eddie had to fill Chyre's shoes. Eddie had never had a partner die - especially not one he'd worked with for years. Finding out that Eddie was dating Iris had only strained their working relationship.

 

Eddie really didn’t know how to smooth things over with Joe without dumping Iris. He needed a balm for Joe’s disapproval or it would wear at his relationship with Iris. The only way to ease the tension was an ally.

 

"Hey, Barry," Eddie said, putting the evidence report he'd borrowed back in the right spot. Barry's desk was a mess, but the evidence shelves were pristine and meticulous. He was a nice guy. It wouldn't be hard for them to get along. Besides, hanging out with Barry was long overdue.

 

"Oh, hey Eddie," Barry said. "Heading out?"

 

"Yeah," Eddie said. "I didn't get the chance to hit the gym this morning, but I was thinking about getting a drink instead. Want to join me?"

 

"Do you know how to fight?" Barry asked. It was sort of a weird question.

 

"Well, yeah," Eddie said. "I know how to box and brawl mostly. I dabble in other martial arts occasionally. Thinking about joining a dojo?" Karate seemed right up a nerd's alley. Eddie could think of a few dojos that Barry might like.

 

"Just want to exercise," Barry said. "And maybe learn how to defend myself. I get paranoid that I'm gunna get mugged one day."

 

"I can give you some tips," Eddie said. He was glad to have skipped the gym now. Barry's face lit up like he was laughing at one of Iris' jokes.

 

"Can you wait while I clean up?" Barry asked.

 

"Sure," Eddie said. Maybe Barry wanted to reach out, get along with the boyfriend of his best friend.

 

 

“I made dinner,” Iris said, setting the plates out. Joe didn’t even grunt in response, just kept staring at the ceiling. It wasn’t the ‘earth to Joe’ look, but rather the ‘I’m too tired to be mad’ look.

 

“How long is this going to go on?” Iris demanded. “You did the same thing with the police academy. I am not backing down, Dad. I really care about Eddie.”

 

Joe hauled himself out of his chair and slouched over to the table. He looked bone-tired, and it hadn’t even been a day of overtime.

 

“When you’re a cop, your partner is integral. They’re your conscience. They support you when your personal life falls apart. They don’t just have your back – they go where you go,” Joe said. “I don’t go to safe places, Iris. I have to be fully focused. Now I’m not fully focused because I’m worried about your boyfriend getting hurt. How am I gunna look at you if something happens to him? How are you gunna look at me?”

 

Iris looked away from his stone face. She couldn’t imagine a situation like that – Eddie in the hospital and Iris too pissed at her own father to confide in him. She went back to the kitchen to grab the rest. It was certainly something she had to consider.

 

 

_Cisco shivered in the cold. He could see the Kremlin in the distance. The buildings around him were clear and in focus. The people were blurred and ghostly. Barry was mostly in focus with his short companion. Cisco followed them into a little hotel._

_The short person removed their helmet, revealing it to be a woman. She spoke to the man at the counter in Russian._

_“What’s going on,” Cisco breathed. It felt so real, but it felt like he wasn’t quite in his body at the same time. He reached out, touching the woman. He was plunged into a river. He dreamed of success and heroism. He saw new worlds and fantastic technology. Words and numbers slipped through his fingers._

 

Cisco rolled out of bed. He grabbed at the first piece of paper and pen he could find. He scribbled down the keys he’d been shown. With these, they would make it to the other side of the river.

 

\---

 

“You okay?” Joe asked. “Did Stockton really get you that bad?”

 

“I’m not sore from Stockton,” Barry said. “Eddie’s teaching me how to fight.” It had been a friendly training session, but Barry found himself smarting still.

 

“Did you guys find anything?” Joe asked as they rounded the corner. Cisco looked up from the middle of a pile of papers and wires.

 

“No, we didn’t find anything,” Caitlin snapped, coming through. “There’s not really much to find. We have no idea how he uses his power. So there’s not really anything we can do to find him.” She went into her work area just off the cortex.

 

“If there’s no new intel, why are we here?” Barry asked. If he’d known there wasn’t anything, he would’ve stayed in the car.

 

“I have to talk to Dr. Wells,” Joe said. “I’ll be right back.” He pat Barry on the arm before heading down the hallway towards Wells’ office.

 

“So, what’s Caitlin mad about?” Barry asked. Cisco got up from his nest on the floor, taking with him a few slips of paper.

 

“She really, really doesn’t like the way we’re treating Nimbus,” Cisco said. “And, to be honest, I’m not a hundred percent okay with it either. I mean, installing the amenities wasn’t hard, but…it just doesn’t feel quite right. Can’t we figure out a compromise?”

 

“What sort of compromise are we supposed to come to?” Barry asked.

 

“I don’t know, dude,” Cisco said. “But we’re partners. We need to sit down and figure it out. For real.”

 

“Sure,” Barry said. “Once we have Stockton in custody, we’ll talk about it.”

 

“Listen, I’m all for waiting until after Stockton, but you’re a nerd. You know that the hero always has another task to overcome. There’s always another bridge to cross,” Cisco said. “There’s always another villain. We’re finally getting work piled up here. But we’re talking about people’s lives.”

 

Barry wanted to be sure about what he was doing. But it wouldn’t help anyone if the team broke apart.

 

“After Stockton,” Barry verified. “And what are you guys busy with?”

 

“Last night, I had a weird dream,” Cisco said. “And in it, I got a bunch of equations. Dr. Wells saw three of them and yelled ‘everything’s coming up millhouse’. Caitlin rediscovered what Danton Black was working on. So Star might not shut down-”

 

“Since when has Star been going to shut down?” Barry asked.

 

“For a while,” Cisco said. “We’re working on what we can do to keep us afloat. And my new equations actually really help with my smart fibers.”

 

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Barry asked. Cisco shrugged.

 

“I’ll think of something,” Cisco said.

 

“Bear, we’re leaving,” Joe said, passing by the cortex and proceeding to the elevator. Barry followed after, slipping in as the doors slid shut.

 

“Everything okay?” he asked. Joe shook his head. “What did Dr. Wells have to say?”

 

“More complications,” Joe growled. “Let’s just focus on Stockton.”

 

 

“Well, you don’t have anything in your tox screen,” Caitlin reported. “And there’s no sign of an aneurism or tumor. You had elevated levels of adrenaline, and your brain waves started acting weird. It honestly looks like you had a panic attack in your sleep.”

 

“That’s not what it was,” Cisco said. He was still sketching. He had a million or so designs for his fibers. He’d claimed earlier that he’d seen them in his sleep.

 

“Do you think Barry will come around about Nimbus?” Caitlin asked.

 

“We’ll find out when we sit down and work it out,” Cisco said. “He said we’d do it after he catches Stockade.”

 

“What if Stockton gets away?” Caitlin asked, refusing to use Cisco’s new name.

 

“Then Stockade gets away, and we sit down and talk about what we’re doing about meta-humans,” Cisco said. “Listen, Cait, I don’t think you’re gunna let this drop. And as long as you’re making a big deal out of it, I’m gunna have your back about it.”

 

“So you agree that we’re not treating Nimbus the way he deserves?” Caitlin pressed.

 

“That’s not the same thing,” Cisco said. “He killed a lot of people. He was supposed to die that night. I’m okay with him sitting in solitary confinement. But what would we do about a peeping tom or someone who can’t control their powers but wants to? Life in solitary doesn’t sound right for either of those.”

 

And that was what scared her the most. They couldn’t keep being judge and jury to these bad metas forever.

 

 

Stockton hadn’t been back for Kiya. Yet. She was still safe in her apartment with a uniform outside. She kept fidgeting.

 

“Do you think he’ll come after you?” Joe asked.

 

“He went after Caleb,” she stated.

 

“Can you tell us anything else about him?” Eddie asked. Kiya grimaced.

 

“Yeah, he bends shit with his mind,” she said. “And don’t say I’m joking or I was high. I know what I saw. That officer outside can’t do shit if James comes back.” Eddie looked away, hiding an incredulous smile.

 

“Okay, let’s say I believe you,” Joe said. “How do James’ powers work? Does he have a weakness?”

 

 

“You learn fast,” Eddie panted. He leaned back, stripping his gloves off to adjust the tape beneath. “Your two biggest issues are that you haven’t built the muscle and you’re a little slow. But otherwise, I’d say we have a decent chance of making a fighter out of you.”

 

Barry would’ve raised his arms in triumph, but he was too busy laying limp on the floor. Not using his powers meant that he was exhausted. But Eddie’s ‘brawling style’ seemed like a good place to start when taking on ‘Stockade’.

 

“Does Joe believe in…I dunno…magic?” Eddie asked. “Psychics?”

 

“God no,” Barry said. “I’m pretty sure between Joe and I, we probably dampened Iris’ love of psychic hotlines.” Eddie laughed. He grabbed his towel and wiped his face off.

 

“What do you do when you and your partner don’t agree on something?” Barry asked. “Especially if you’re new to each other?” Eddie grimaced.

 

“Is it that obvious Joe and I are at odds?” Eddie asked. Barry realized too late that his ambiguous wording could be taken two ways.

 

“I meant in general,” Barry said. “I’m sort of having my own partner issues.”

 

“Well, I guess…it takes time to mesh,” Eddie said. “You have to give it some time. And once you have disagreements, you have to measure how much your decision could affect that relationship. I knew things with Iris were going to be tough but…I knew then that it was going to be worth it. It’s worth this discomfort with Joe.”

 

“What about moral disagreements?” Barry asked. Eddie shrugged.

 

“It depends,” Eddie said. “You’re talking about a huge grey area. On the one hand, you have to do what’s right. On the other hand, how much does the relationship mean? But even more important, you have to try to pull yourself out of the situation and ask yourself if the other person is right in any way or if you’re just being stubborn.”

 

 _I’m not being stubborn_ , Barry thought. Caitlin was only thinking about the small picture.

 

“I’m sure it’ll work out,” Eddie said. “You seem like a pretty nice guy. I’m sure you’ll have your partner’s back.”

 

 

_How serious can you be about an anonymous blog?_

 

When Eddie and Barry had stepped into Jitters, Iris had hope that the two of them would be friends, too. She wasn’t really sure what she would do if Barry didn’t like Eddie. With her dad’s cold shoulder, Barry’s disapproval would’ve broken her and Eddie apart. When she’d updated him on her blog-

 

Iris grit her teeth. Barry had spent his whole damn life trying to get her into his nerdy stuff. Now the moment she was into it, he completely didn’t have her back.

 

If no one was going to be there for her and her blog, then Iris had to be there for herself. She started with Ana’s advice – protect your work. Iris already had her blog on her own website. Now she just needed to mark it as her own.

 

As she was making the changes, she noticed a new email. She clicked it open. Ana had sent her a few attachments and a bill. Iris opened the pictures. It was the same guy from the other night. The same red uniform. He hung in the air, gold electricity trailing behind him.

 

There wasn’t a good version that showed the Streak’s face. But it was more than enough.

 

 _This is how serious I am_ , Iris thought, opening the editing tab on her website design program. She finished editing the blog quickly. She still had to clean up. She got up.

 

The bell rang. She nearly yelled in frustration. What part of a CLOSED sign did people not understand? What part of 'M - F 6 am - 10:30 pm' did people not understand? Just because the lights were on a little didn't mean Jitters was open. Maybe Iris needed to see to clean up after the messes everyone made.

 

"Sorry, we're closed," she called, irritated.

 

"Iris West," a man said. His voice sounded like three or four people talking at the same time. "I hear you've been writing about me."

 

There he was. His red suit was almost maroon in the yellow light of the street lamp. The picture hadn’t been clear about what was on the front of his uniform, but she was right. There was gold lightning bolt over his chest. He was tall - tall enough that the light from the lamp shone right in her eyes.

 

"You are real," she breathed, walking to get a different vantage point. To see him better. This man who did the impossible and made the world a better place. This hero. This harbinger of hope.

 

If this man was good, and fast, maybe he could help Barry. Find peace with what had happened. Or perhaps help Iris get a lead as to who had killed Barry's mom. If the killer was found, Henry Allen would be released. Barry could be with his family again.

 

She realized that the dining area was a mess. "I should...Let me just clean up." Before she could take a step, a red blur burst around the room, picking up as it went. He came to a halt by the tip jar.

 

"Meet me on the roof," he said. "I'll give you a head start."

 

Iris' heart fluttered in her chest. She couldn't get up the stairs fast enough. Couldn't get to this tall stranger fast enough. She broke into the chilly air of the night, intent on anything red.

 

"I need you to stop writing about me," he said. He was behind her, sitting on the awning.

 

"There are a lot of people who need someone like you right now," Iris said. "To know that you're out there." Iris could hope for a better tomorrow if she knew that there was someone out there working to make things better.

 

"I have so many questions," she said, a little breathless still from the stairs. "Where are you from? Earth? Did you come here from a different dimension or something? Who are you?"

 

"I can't tell you that," the Streak said, shaking his head. Iris stepped back a little so she didn't have to crane her neck so much.

 

"How can you move so fast? Make your voice do that?" Iris asked. The Streak said nothing.

 

"You're a terrible interview," Iris complained.

 

Golden light sparked out. A gust of wind came up behind her. "There's more to this than you can understand. Just trust me. I need you to stop."

 

She turned. "Can you? Can you stop running into buildings and rescuing people without them knowing you're even there?"

 

He'd gotten his position just right so that the spotlight from one of the hospitals hit her right in the eye. But she refused to look away. She needed to know more about this...hero.

 

"I don't do this for the glory," he said.

 

"So why do you?" she asked. If he wasn't doing this for credit, then why? Not that she couldn't imagine why. Her dad, best friend, and boyfriend were all cops. She would've too if she hadn't buckled. But what reason would this man have?

 

He moved. When she no longer heard or saw him, she didn't look for him. She could feel the heat coming off his body in thick waves. She did look back enough so that she could see his red gloved hand at his side.

 

"Look," she said. "I have this friend. He had something terrible happen to him as a kid. He's been telling stories about this impossible thing. People laugh at him, and he's been analyzed by shrinks. But he's not crazy. I believe him.

 

"Now it's like he's lost faith. Not just lost faith – he entirely rejects that entire part of him. You are proof that he's not crazy," Iris said, turning around. The Streak's face blurred out. "You could help him catch his mother's killer. Please help my friend."

 

The Streak smiled beneath his blur. "He's a lucky guy."

 

"So you'll help him?" Iris asked.

 

"I'll think about it," he said. And then he was gone. It wasn't a yes, but it was hope for tomorrow.

 

 

"Joe, what are you doing here?" Barry asked.

 

"Going over the materials in your mom's case," Joe said. "How's it going with you?" The lab was really the only place Joe could go over Nora Allen's murder at CCPD without people getting suspicious. It made sense. Barry's lab. Barry's mom.

 

"Stellar," Barry sighed, preparing to unload. "I have some bad news…Iris is writing a blog about the Streak. And she put her name on it. I’ve been trying to get her to stop, but I didn’t and made it worse. And I’m so sorry, Joe. But I know why she’s doing it.”

 

Joe tossed the file he’d been reviewing back into the box of evidence. He folded his arms. After all the things that were going on – from the mundane like attempted murder and disapproval for his daughter’s boyfriend to meta-humans and Wells’ earth-shattering news – this wasn’t the worst thing that could happen.

 

“Okay, why is Iris writing about the Streak?” Joe asked. He may as well try to help salvage the situation.

 

"She's doing it for me," he said, a half-smile half-grimace. "To get someone impossible to help find my mom's killer."

 

"How do you know that?" Joe asked. There was no way Iris would cop to something like that before she'd actually gotten the resource. She wouldn’t want to let Barry down.

 

Barry's face turned sheepish. "The Streak may have talked to Iris."

 

"Barry, don't you think Iris would recognize your voice?" Joe asked. For CSI to miss such an obvious detail was a little disheartening.

 

"No," Barry said, his voice sounding like several people talking at once. "I can do this cool thing with my vocal cords where I vibrate them so I sound like this."

 

Joe nearly choked on his coffee laughing. He held his throat. When the surprise and humor faded, Joe returned to the problem.

 

"What did you tell her? That the Streak would help her?" Joe asked.

 

"I didn't say yes, but I didn't say no," Barry said. "I know you want to keep her safe, but the only way to get her to stop is to tell her the truth."

 

"Man, you really want to tell her," Joe said. Joe wanted to keep Iris as far from this insanity as possible. To keep her from running headlong into danger. If Iris knew, she'd want to be neck deep in all this.

 

"I tell her everything," Barry said, face devoid of guile. But that was the thing. He told her everything but the most important truth.

 

"Mmmm," Joe said, shaking his head. "Not... _everything_."

 

Barry scoffed, pretending to be confused. Joe had perfected the don't-try-to-lie-to-me look a long time ago. A flush crept from Barry's throat all the way to his ears, which Barry tried to cover with his hands. He chanced a glance at Joe, looking away quickly and flushing deeper.

 

"Is it that obvious?" he asked. Joe wished he had a camera to show to Iris one day. Iris thought she had it bad with Joe as an over protective dad. He gave Barry’s girlfriends the same treatment he gave her new boyfriends.

 

Joe nodded. He realized what Barry was really getting at with that question. "Not to her."

 

"But how long have you known for?" Barry asked.

 

"I have watched you be in love with Iris since before you even knew what love was," Joe said. It had been the most adorable thing back then. Now it was...bittersweet. Iris with someone else while Barry was alone. Barry deserved the sort of love that he wanted to offer to Iris. "And I've been waiting years for you to tell her. But you haven't." Barry shook his head.

 

"Guess I was too slow. Now she's happy with someone else. So..." He trailed off, avoiding Joe's eyes.

 

"When the universe wants to make something happen, whether it's giving a young man lightning speed or putting two people together, it has a way of figuring those things out," Joe said. The universe could do whatever it wanted. And seemed to do so liberally.

 

\---

 

Cellular regeneration. That’s what Black had been after. That, and she could compare his DNA to other subjects. Subjects that had no powers and ones that did. Black’s DNA had genes she’d never seen before – much like Barry’s. They were located close to the ones that controlled cellular regeneration, so she could only assume they controlled his growth of the clone.

 

When she’d scanned Black’s clone, she found that the whole frontal lobe was completely underdeveloped while the motor cortex was enormous. She recorded mostly alpha waves from the clone, and occasionally delta and theta. So the clone had moments of wakefulness and sleep.

 

She’d stimulated it with beta waves, which caused the clone to spasm. When she’d simulated gamma waves, the clone seemed to start seizing. Caitlin turned it off and the seizing stopped.

 

“Cisco, I have an idea,” Caitlin said, running into the cortex. “So, I think that Danton Black was able to send mental commands to his clone to kill himself. If we consider that a form of psychic power, do you think that if I can disrupt the mental signal to the clone I could disrupt Stockton’s powers?”

 

Cisco weighed it. “It sounds like something like they’d come up with in a comic. And it makes sense. But…we don’t actually know if the way Black controlled his clone is the same as what Stockade does.”

 

“That’s what I was afraid of,” Caitlin said. “Can you come with me to storage? I have an idea for how to stop Stockton.”

 

 

“So, when do we get to tell Barry?” Joe asked. “I mean, we have to warn him, right?”

 

“He’ll find out soon enough,” Dr. Wells said. “We have to keep a lid on it until things…come full circle. They’ll be pissed, but you don’t have to deal with any of that.” Joe sat back, looking out the window. This was so beyond his depth that he wanted to leave it in Wells’ hands. Probably not the smartest idea, but it wasn’t like he could contribute to the situation.

 

“Do you think I should let Iris into all of this?” Joe asked. “And don’t just say yes because you want everyone to know.” Dr. Wells stirred his coffee slowly.

 

“Wanting everyone to know and wanting to tell select people are two very different situations,” Dr. Wells said. “And don’t think that her blog hasn’t escaped me, Joe. Now, let’s say that we keep her in the dark and protect her from Star. But no shield is perfect. No lie is inescapable. We may fail in protecting her.”

 

“If it were me and a child of my own, I’d tell her,” Wells said. “You take Eddie into cases involving meta-humans. Barry fights the meta-humans. She’s friends with Cisco and Caitlin. This new reality surrounds her. If she were to know, couldn’t she adapt to it? Couldn’t she make an informed decision?”

 

 

The call came in late that afternoon. Cisco and Caitlin were almost done retrofitting the prototype. It wasn’t pretty or light, but Cisco was confident that it would do what Caitlin wanted. Cisco had Barry on the phone fast.

 

“You guys got anything?” Barry asked.

 

“Yeah,” Cisco said. “Stockade showed up at Kiya’s place. You better get there fast. Eddie and Joe are on their way.” The line went dead. Cisco finished buttoning up the side of the prototype.

 

“Help me lift it,” Cisco grunted, taking one end. Caitlin got the other.

 

 

Stockton slammed Barry against the wall. Barry was pretty sure something broke this time.

 

“Hold it, Stockton,” Joe bellowed. He fired. The bullets slowed as they approached their target. The air around them was blurred. Still holding Barry down, Stockton lifted a hand, like he was going to send the bullets right back at Joe.

 

Barry had never pushed against something so hard in his life. He started to press forward from the wall.

 

Two shots hit Stockton. He stumbled back as Barry and the bullets were released from his power. Barry pulled Stockton away from the crowds. He didn’t have a long grip before a huge invisible hand knocked him away.

 

When they clashed again, Barry couldn’t get close to Stockton. Behind every waning wave was another trying to push him back. Fighting techniques were useless if he couldn’t get close.

 

Tires screeched to a halt nearby. Out of the corner of his eye, Barry could see two people scrambling out of the can. Stockton reached out like he was going to send a blast at Caitlin and Cisco.

 

Barry ducked under a wave and punched Stockton in the stomach. Barry got a knee to the face. Stockton landed on him, fists flying. Barry cried out. He’d never been hit this hard before – even in high school.

 

A high-pitched squeal blast through the alleyway. The force punches turned to normal ones. Barry caught Stockton’s latest fist and used his long reach to jab the other man in the throat. Stockton stopped attacking long enough that Barry was able to punch him out.

 

“Are you okay?” Caitlin asked, helping Barry to his feet. Cisco was already grabbing Stockton.

 

“Y-yeah,” Barry panted. “I’m glad I learned a little fighting.”

 

 

"If you came to do the laundry, I already have a load in," Iris said.

 

"Uh, no, I came to talk," Barry said. He sat down at the table next to her. She moved her laptop away, focusing on him. He looked extra tired and beat. “You’ve noticed that I don’t want to talk about the Streak. Did you know that people who settle lawsuits faster get better faster than those who hold out for a bigger amount?”

 

"My mom's case isn't just cold. It's frozen,” Barry said, twisting the truth. “I've been sticking around, obsessing over her death. My mom's death has been holding me back. My dad has been telling me that I need to move on, make a life for myself. I'm trying to put this behind me so I can heal. I'm asking you to as well."

 

Iris' other eyebrow shot up.

 

"That may have been how this all started," she said. "But it's turned into something more. Whoever the Streak is, wherever he comes from, I am not stopping until the rest of the world believes in him."

 

 _Ouch_ , Barry thought. If he'd been telling the truth, Iris had just told him that her cause was better than him trying to move on from a fourteen-year wound. That she didn't care about him the way he did about her. He genuinely didn't want her to be hurt. He genuinely wanted her to enjoy what she was doing. But she couldn't even compromise. After he compromised all the time.

 

The irony hit him. They were partners, and she didn’t have his back. Just like Barry wasn’t having Caitlin’s back. He could see why Caitlin didn’t want to talk to him.

 

"Maybe we shouldn't see each other for a while," Barry said, getting up. He needed to get out of here. Needed a drink.

 

"Yeah," Iris echoed, looking away from him.

 

\----

 

He pulled her into a hug. She smelled like coffee and muffins.

 

"Hey, baby," Joe said. He let her go enough that only one arm hung around her neck. "If you're looking for Eddie, he's in evidence."

 

"I wasn't looking for Eddie, I was looking for you," Iris said. "I wanted to apologize."

 

"You're really trying to hit that magic number, aren't you," he teased. He’d already forgiven her. She loved Eddie, and that was that. At least Eddie was a decent guy.

 

"No," Iris said. "I didn't know why you were upset. Now I do, and I know why it's hard for you. I should've thought about how a relationship with Eddie could affect you and him. But I want you to know, nothing you can do will ever change the way that I look at you."

 

Joe hefted a sigh. "You know, chasing down this Stockton guy? He had the draw on me, and Eddie saved my life."

 

"Don't underestimate my boyfriend," Iris said. “You were right the other day when you told me that he’s an adult. He can take care of himself. And I’m an adult, too, and I can do the same. And we’ll take care of each other.”

 

“It’s just hard for me sometimes,” Joe admitted. He wanted her to grow up and have a family, he really did. Make her own choices in life. But part of her growing up meant that he had to let go. Let go and trust that she could fly on her own.

 

"From now on, no more secrets,” Iris said.

 

“No more secrets,” he echoed. Maybe it would be a good idea to tell Iris. Let her make her own choices. “Go see Eddie.”

 

 

“Is Star Labs really in trouble?” Barry asked.

 

“Not as much,” Cisco said. “Dr. Wells sold off more of the prototypes. We have a two years to get it together. Yesterday when I was looking through prototypes with Caitlin, I found a way that you can help.” They turned the corner. Inside the treadmill room was what Barry could only identify as ‘hamster wheel’.

“If you’re gunna run anyway, why not generate some electricity while you’re at it?” Cisco asked. “It’s hooked up to the same tech the treadmill is, so you can monitor speed and stuff. What do you think?”

 

“It’s very…orange,” Barry said. Cisco shrugged.

 

“Yeah,” Cisco said. “I was gunna paint that before you got here. But with everything going on with my smart fibers – it’s amazing. I might have some working prototypes within the next two years.”

 

“That’s awesome, Cisco,” Barry said. “But you know what’s not awesome?”

 

“What?” Cisco griped. “And don’t tell me your suit is too hot. As long as it’s not chafing, you will suffer the heat.”

 

“I was gunna say that it’s not awesome that I haven’t had Caitlin’s back,” Barry said. “I...guess I need to look at it from her perspective.” Barry tried not to think of the marathon casualties from a year a panic had happened in the city. Or attacking meta-humans because they had powers.

 

“You know that blog Iris has?” Cisco asked.

 

“Is it really catching on that fast?” Barry asked.

 

Cisco nodded and tucked his hair behind his ear. “She’s got a picture of you running down the street. The first picture of you. I mean, it could’ve been photoshopped, but it’s still pretty badass.” The two of them came upon Caitlin who was dusting off the contraption she’d come up with.

 

“Let’s figure out what we want to do about the meta-humans in the basement before the day is out,” Barry said. “We don’t leave Star until we can come to a compromise.”

 


	5. Brace for Impact

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barry time travels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ana is NOT going to be in a relationship with Barry. I don't have a lot of crossovers planned. I plan to keep the number very, very low. I’m probably going to gloss over Snart. He happens, but I’m tired of writing him at the moment. He will almost certainly show up later. I'm just sort of over writing that whole situation.

It bit him to the core. Made his joints ache. No. He couldn’t be growing again. Did Charles Kline hurt this much when he stretched out?

 

Wind whipped over his body once more, ripping away any last shreds of sleep. Barry sat up, groaning as he did. He’d probably deep-tissue bruised. The snow blinded him, but he could see the deep gouge through the snow and soil from forty feet to where he lay. No wonder his shoulder hurt so much. His suit had undergone serious damage. It was scorched in places with huge gashes in others. There were yellow or green discolorations all over his suit.

 

Barry pushed up, yanking his hand away a second later. Partially beneath him was a woman. Her sweats were singed. She had plenty of scratches where her clothes hadn’t protected her. She wore bike pads and a motorcycle helmet. The visor was cracked.

 

Barry couldn’t see any roads. Just a treeline and an old barn. He got to his knees, and his stomach protested. Barry found himself crouched over the woman, vomiting into the snow just beyond her. He wiped his mouth. How he’d gotten there, he had no idea.

 

 _You’re about to freeze to death_ , Barry reminded himself. He hauled the woman into his arms and carried her to the barn. Inside was rank from pigs. Not sanitary, but at least it was warm. Barry took her up to the hayloft.

 

The cuts in her body looked like they were clotted, so Barry turned his attention to the broken arm. Thankfully, it hadn’t pierced the skin, and it didn’t feel like it had shattered – a clean break. He twisted it into place and secured it with a rotting board and some molding twine. He paused.

 

The last thing he definitively remembered was dinner with the team while they planned a D&D group. They’d been at Star all day talking about the agreement. After that, things got pretty hazy. He sort of remembered talking to Joe about a backpack and first aid. Then there was some kind of test from Caitlin. There was a danger in Central City.

 

Barry realized that he was wearing a backpack. He shrugged it off – the first aid kit was right on top.  When he wiped at the gashes, he found they were mostly healed. The woman didn’t stir until he removed her helmet.

 

“Let me guess,” she groaned. “You’ve never done emergency treatment before.”

 

“Yeah,” Barry admitted. “Where are we?”

 

“Seriously?” she asked. “I thought you were the one who did this.”

 

“I-I don’t know how we got here. Wherever ‘here’ is,” Barry said.

 

“Probably Russia,” she said. “ _You_ ran into _me_.”

 

“Why are we in Russia?” Barry asked. The woman shrugged, grimaced, and pointed to the ceiling. It was covered in what appeared to be Soviet propaganda being used as additional insulation.

 

“I’m not sure,” she snapped. “I was just running to help a friend when you cornered like shit and ran right into me. We were supposed to end up in the river, but instead, we’re in Russia. Care to elaborate how that happened?”

 

There were a number of ways it could’ve happened. She could be lying and this was some weird hoax. They could’ve ripped through the fabric of space to move several thousand miles instantaneously. They might’ve vibrated at the exact frequency that the earth moved. Teleportation came to mind.

 

“I’m not sure,” Barry admitted. “Maybe it wasn’t either of us. Maybe it was another meta-human or-or something that happened when we hit.”

 

“‘Meta-human’?” the woman asked.

 

“Uh, people like us. People with powers,” Barry said. She nodded, a hand going up to scratch the back of her neck. She scowled like she was going to kill him.

 

“Let me start over,” Barry said, holding out a hand to shake. “I’m Barry.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he regretted them. What if she used his identity to hurt him?

 

She tossed her good hand into his. “Ana.”

 

“Okay, Ana, I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation for how we got here,” he said. “But for now, I have no idea how that happened. We need to get somewhere warm so we can figure out how to get back.” He packed the first aid kit back in his bag.

 

“I’ll have to carry you down the ladder,” he said, trying to figure out how he was going to hold onto her and the ladder without squishing her broken arm.

 

“What’s that?” Ana asked, pulling at black fabric in the bag. She pulled it out all the way. It was a black suit that was almost the same as Barry’s. Only there was no emblem. Ana started pulling on the pants.

 

“What are you doing?” Barry demanded.

 

“They’re my size, not yours,” Ana said. “Besides, I’ll freeze out there.” She pulled the pants right over her burned sweats, making it all bunched underneath. She pulled the jacket half-on and tying the arms into a sling with one hand. She got to her feet and pulled her helmet on.

 

“I’ll be able to hold onto you,” Ana said. She held out her hand for the backpack. Barry hesitated, but handed it over. She slung it over her good arm, then latched onto his back using her good arm and both legs.

 

When they were outside, Ana started running. Barry chased, almost bowling her over when she stopped dead by the road. The road signs nearby were in Russian. Ana started running again, and Barry was forced to follow.

 

 

It was more than a little suspicious. Barry happened to end up in Russia – Moscow if the Kremlin in the distance was any indication – with someone who spoke Russian. And he happened to have a professional friction-proof suit that fit her pretty perfectly. And she just so happened to have a credit card on her.

 

Ana flopped down on the queen in their room. Barry grimaced. The hotel didn’t look that clean. He could almost feel the bed bugs crawling on his skin.

 

“Have you ever broken an arm with your powers?” Ana asked, inspecting the splint.

 

“You have three more hours for a break like that,” Barry reported. Ana huffed. “How long do we have until we have to leave?”

 

“Three or four days,” Ana said. “A week if we really, really have to. But we’ll have to ration carefully now.”

 

Barry picked up the bag off the bed and dumped the contents on the table. A letter with a neon envelope caught his attention. He unfolded it.

 

_Barry,_

_You just time traveled! According to what you told me, you’re about a week in the past. When you call me, you absolutely must start with ‘silverfish’. It’s VERY important that the first word I hear from you be that. And don’t answer too many of my questions about the future._

_-Dr. Wells_

 

“Everything okay?” Ana asked. The whole concept of him happening to teleport to Russia with someone who spoke the language didn’t seem so far-fetched in comparison to time travelling.

 

“How do you know Russian?” Barry asked.

 

“It’s my first language,” Ana said. “I was born here in Moscow.” She got up. Barry stuffed the letter in his pocket. Ana added her wallet to the table.

 

“Your phone won’t work here,” she said. “They use a different kind of service. Most people don’t get both kinds on American plans. I have a phone card if you have someone we can call for help.”

 

Barry picked up the passport from his bag. It was his. Dr. Wells had packed him a bag with pretty much everything he needed. Pretty much all that was missing was a passport for Ana and a pair of tickets.

 

“I assume the card is in your wallet?” Barry asked. Ana nodded. Barry flipped through it. He noticed a picture of Ana with a tall black woman who was decked out in pink from head to toe. The phone card was on top, so he couldn’t do any other digging.

 

“The instructions are on the back,” Ana said. Barry took it over to the phone on the end table. He punched in the numbers. Finally, the service prompted him to dial the number he wanted to reach.

 

“Harrison Wells,” Dr. Wells said.

 

“Silverfish,” Barry said.

 

“You’re shitting me!” Dr. Wells exclaimed. “Hold on.” Gooseflesh rose on his arms as Barry heard the exchange between Cisco and Dr. Wells. A few moments later, the sounds of the team discussing Stockton were gone.

 

“Barry, you _time traveled_ ,” Dr. Wells whispered. “How did you do it? When are you from?”

 

“Dr. Wells, I have a more pressing situation,” Barry said. “I’m in Moscow. I have someone with me.  We need to get back to the states. Do you think you can get us a pair of tickets?”

 

“It might take a day or two,” Dr. Wells said. “You and your companion’s passports are another story.”

 

“Do you think you can make a fake?” Barry asked. At the table, Ana pulled a passport out of her wallet. “Nevermind. She has one, too.”

 

“I do have a caveat to this, Barry,” Dr. Wells said. “You and your friend should document everything. Medical situations. What you physically experienced before, during, and after time travel.”

 

“Sure,” Barry said. Not that he really remembered much. “We’ll figure something out. Hey, if I got a webcam, do you think you could tell me if I set a bone right?”

 

“I could take a guess,” Dr. Wells said. “But you’ll need medical attention either way. Caitlin’s medical attention. Let’s see…it’s almost eight where you are, correct?”

 

“Yeah,” Barry said.

 

“We’ll meet tomorrow at seven your time,” Dr. Wells said. “Find an internet café so we can Skype.”

 

 

“You didn’t have to go alone,” Ana grouched. Barry had insisted she stay in the room after the first time they went out, she scraped up her bad arm. He’d been able to convince her that she was a liability to herself when she was running. And if they walked, they’d stand out.

 

“You’re welcome,” Barry said, depositing the bags of Big Belly Burger on the bed. He started in on the burgers. Ana went straight for the fries.

 

“Where did you get your suit?” Ana asked.

 

“A friend made it for me,” Barry said.

 

“Your friend make one for me, too?” Ana asked.

 

“I guess,” Barry said. It was starting to come back to him. He’d been going after Leonard Snart. They’d all been too busy with that to do much else. Cisco had been working on his smartfibers. Caitlin had been working on Black’s research and discovering what gave meta-humans their powers. Dr. Wells…well, he was probably dealing with a pair of time-travelers in his spare time.

 

Ana didn’t respond. She kept eating. She picked through the burgers, grabbing the ones with more pickles.

 

“So what do you do with your power?” Barry asked.

 

“I run,” Ana said. “I get to work on time. I get to appointments on time. I pick up stuff from the store for my sister when it’s late and we’re drunk.”

 

“You haven’t thought about using it for anything else?” Barry pried.

 

“I punched out the moron who knocked over the same convenience store. Twice. Who robs the same convenience store? At the same time at night?” Ana said. “He had powers, too. But I knew how to use mine better, I guess. At the time, anyway.”

 

“You ran into him again?” Barry asked. “What happened?”

 

“He robbed Keystone National,” Ana said. “When I went to stop him, he flattened me like a pancake.”

 

“Wait, you fought a guy in yellow and purple spandex?” Barry asked. “He has the power of gravity?”

 

“Yeah, that’s the one,” Ana said.

 

“Who was the guy who took him down?” Barry asked. “The big guy who was completely immune?” Ana shook her head.

 

“Never met him,” she said. “I guess he banks at Keystone National, too.”

 

“Have you thought about being a superhero?” Barry asked. “Giving back to the community?” Ana set her burger down.

 

“Listen, Barry, it’s great that you go out there and fight crime. It really is. I bet muggers and rapists are scared stiff in Central City right now,” she said. “But I’m not like you. I have a job that has long, inconsistent hours. I don’t have my second job right now, so I can’t pull in any extra money. And I’m kind of helping out with a local therapy group. If I see a crime, of course I’ll step in. But I’m not going to go looking for trouble when I have a full time job and then some. If anything, I’m gunna help the homeless vets in my area.”

 

Barry chewed on his burger, thinking that over. His hours had gotten a lot more reasonable now that he was able to use his powers at work. But it couldn’t be like that for everyone. Speed couldn’t solve everyone’s problems. At least she didn’t seem to want to use them for nefarious purposes.

 

“While I’m thinking of it: how did we get here?” Ana asked.

 

“You wouldn’t believe me,” Barry said through a mouthful.

 

“Try me,” Ana said, folding her arms.

 

“I think we time traveled,” Barry said. “Not very far. Maybe a week, tops.”

 

“Time traveled. Like _Back to the Future_?”

 

“Yeah. Only there was no DeLorean,” Barry explained. “As far as I can tell, it probably happened when we collided. And you were probably in control. You were born here. Maybe you were what brought us to Moscow specifically.”

 

“Seriously? You’re going to feed me time travel,” Ana sighed. She shook her head, grabbed two carriers of fries, and turned her attention to the TV, which was on mute.

 

“Well, maybe if you would tell me what happened, I would have a better idea of what actually happened,” Barry snapped. Ana turned on the sound. If they really were time travelling, she was going to have to figure it out on her own.

 

\---

 

Barry opened his eyes to the soft light filtering through the curtains. In front of them was Ana, electricity snapping over her skin as she moved from one fighting pose to the next seamlessly. She noticed the audience and stopped.

 

“Could you teach me how to fight?” Barry blurted out. Ana snorted and pulled on one of the sweaters Barry had gotten on her card. The rope and board for her splint lay on the floor.

 

“I’ll think about it,” she said. She grabbed the smaller coat and ripped the tags off.

 

“Where are you going?” Barry asked.

 

“Breakfast,” she said. “Then sightseeing.” Barry dressed in a second. It was his first time abroad. He wasn’t missing this for the world.

 

 

Barry stared at the blank in the page, not sure what to put. He was still patchy about the events that led up to the collision. He knew that Felicity had shown up the same day the armored car had been hit. He could remember all the things about Snart, but he couldn’t quite figure out how he’d run into Ana. He’d been angry at Cisco, but he wasn’t sure why.

 

“Don’t know where to start?” Ana asked. She’d filled out the pages of her own experiences very fully in an untidy scrawl.

 

“I don’t remember,” Barry said.

 

“What do you mean, you don’t remember?” Ana asked.

 

“I mean, I remember fighting with...someone. I was about to go prevent a robbery. And then I just sort of go blank,” Barry said.

 

“Do you remember turning the corner?” Ana asked. “By the bridge?” Barry knew the one. The one that he always had trouble with. There was a lot of construction, and the road was always just slick enough that he always seemed to slide right there. And he definitely would’ve taken it to go to the museum.

 

“It feels familiar,” Barry hedged. Maybe she would tell him more and shake something loose.

 

“You don’t remember sticking to me? Or ending up in that weird desert place?” Ana asked. That didn’t sound anything like what he thought she’d say. He shook his head. “When you hit me, you just sort of _stuck_. When we fell, there was a flash of light, and we were in this sort of dark…desert. The sand was absolutely scorching. And then I hit this light again, and the next thing I know, I’m waking up to you setting my arm.”

 

Chills ran down his spine. There was a tightness building in his chest. Barry shied away from glimpses of Nothingness and heat.

 

“Light’s not physical,” Barry retorted. “You can’t exactly hit it.”

 

“Well I did,” Ana said. “And you came with me.” It seemed less coincidental that they were in Moscow if she was in control of where they went.

 

 

Harrison sipped his coffee. Cisco flopped down next to him, reaching for the extra cup.

 

“Rough night?” Harrison asked. Cisco groaned into his cup. He set it down and held out a crumpled receipt. Harrison took it. There were several equations. Three of them stuck out – they contained Harrison’s made-up symbols for variables he was still developing. Those three were equations on time travel.

 

“Everything’s coming up millhouse,” Harrison said, holding the receipt to his chest. He typed them into his tablet.

 

“Everything okay?” Cisco asked, confused when Harrison handed back the paper. Harrison checked his watch.

 

“It’s just in time,” Harrison said. “If Joe asks, I’m in my office.”

 

 

“Time travel,” Joe said. He was just getting used to people with supernatural abilities. Now time travel. Because it made sense for the chaos to come all at once without any breathing space.

 

“Time travel,” Barry said. Supposedly from Moscow. There were a lot of Russian signs behind him. And Joe had just left Barry in the cortex with Cisco.

 

“It’s a lot to swallow,” Joe said. A short woman with brown hair sat next to Barry. She handed him a coffee.

 

“I, too, call bullshit on time travel,” she said. She sipped her coffee.

 

“Joe, this is Ana. She’s the one I ran into,” Barry said. “There might be some connection between our collision and the time travelling.”

 

“Sounds…reasonable. And I didn’t say that I didn’t believe,” Joe said. “It’s not hard to believe if you also believe that there’s a man who exists who can run a mile in four seconds.”

 

“That makes a lot more sense,” Ana said, still looking pretty skeptical. “Hey, what’s wrong with the nerd?” Joe looked over. Dr. Wells looked like he was seeing a ghost.

 

“Wells, you okay?” Joe asked. Dr. Wells cleared his throat.

 

“Yes, yes,” Dr. Wells said. “Barry, you mentioned yesterday that you had a broken arm?” Barry pointed to Ana, who held up her right arm. There was a definite bend there.

 

“Well, it looks as good as your conditions allowed,” Dr. Wells said. “Ana, do you feel any residual pain?”

 

“No,” she said. “And I can’t feel my wrist.”

 

“There’s not much we can do about that for now,” Dr. Wells said. “You shouldn’t have to bear with it much longer. The tickets should be there tomorrow morning. The messenger will only deliver them to Barry in person.”

 

“Ten-four,” Barry said.

 

“This is a reminder. The two of you need to avoid telling anyone,” Dr. Wells said. “When you arrive at the airport, come right to my car. No stopping. And don’t forget to log your experiences.” Barry and Ana held up filled pages.

 

“The lady next to us is getting weirded out,” Ana said. “We should probably wrap this up.”

 

“Be careful, Barry,” Joe said. Dr. Wells cut the connection. “So if people shouldn’t know about time travel, why did you tell me?”

 

“Because I’m going to have to make Barry a care package,” Dr. Wells said. “And I’ll need his passport.”

 

\---

 

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” Barry asked. Ana was on her fourth flask of volka.

 

“Dramamine doesn’t work on me,” Ana said. “Trust me, you’d rather have me drunk than sober on an airplane. I mean, why the hell do we have to fly again? Oh, yeah, cuz it’s Russia and cold as a witch’s tit outside and we can’t run on water. And that’s why I’m forced to travel in a pressurized death trap.”

 

“Not a fan of planes, I see,” Barry commented.

 

“I’m not a fan of heights,” Ana corrected.

 

“You took a picture of me running around a tornado from the top of a building,” Barry pointed out. “There’s no way you weren’t up high.”

 

“Up high and a minimum of five feet from the edge at all times,” Ana said. “If I’m more than three stories up, I’m not going near the edge. It would be just my luck.”

 

“Do you also avoid elevators?” Barry asked.

 

“I need the exercise anyway,” Ana said. Barry chuckled. “What? You’re not afraid of anything?”

 

“It’s not that,” Barry said. “It’s the excuse. I know how that feels, validating actions because you’re scared.” He’d never really left the country. Joe had taken him and Iris to Mexico once or twice, but Barry had never traveled outside the country on his own. Never went too far from where it was safe.

 

“Let me guess…spiders? Snakes?” Ana asked.

 

“Spiders are actually really amazing for the environment,” Barry said. “So are snakes. I mean, I’m going to take them both pretty seriously if I see one I don’t recognize. But I’d also take one I knew to be poisonous pretty seriously.”

 

“So what keeps you up at night?” Ana asked, volka blowing over Barry’s face. He turned away. Glowing red eyes and a yellow suit came to mind. He grabbed the flask and downed the rest.

 

\---

 

For someone hungover, Ana was doing better than he was. He hadn’t managed to sleep much on the flights. But there she was, supporting him as they stumbled to the black car waiting out front. She helped him get into the back seat.

 

“So you’re Dr. Wells,” Ana said. “Nice to meet you again, sir.” She shook his hand.

 

“We’ve met before?” Dr. Wells asked, alarmed. She hadn’t acted like it on the Skype call.

 

“You used to come to Utkin’s all the time,” Ana said. “You were a regular at lunch. Every Thursday you got a soup, salad, and half sandwich with a coffee. I remember you because you tipped so well.”

 

“You waited on me?” Dr. Wells asked, disbelieving.

 

“Not every Thursday. Every now and again, though,” Ana said. “You wouldn’t recognize me. Monique wouldn’t let me serve if she couldn’t do my makeup. She’s…thorough.”

 

“Can we get going?” Barry asked. Dr. Wells shifted the car into gear.

 


	6. Cold Front

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barry gets back to Central City and helps Dr. Wells with his research. Dr. Wells (gently) plays with time travel. Barry picks his day up where he left off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry about how crossover heavy this is. I really didn't mean this arc to be so long. I don't intend any crossovers in the near future beyond mentions in passing. (We will see Bette in Central City soon, but I don't count that as a crossover.)

“So if we’re time travelling, does that mean I can prevent someone from stealing something of mine?” Ana asked. Just looking at her sent chills down his spine. The resemblance was uncanny. But maybe it wasn’t resemblance.

 

“Maybe,” Harrison hedged. “What did you have in mind?”

 

“Someone got into my house and stole a bunch of stuff,” Ana said. “As far as I can tell, it was just my stuff.”

 

“Did you see them?” Harrison asked. Ana shook her head. “Then I’d say it’s probably safe to get it – on one condition. You must not be seen by yourself. You absolutely cannot touch yourself. No contact.” Ana scrubbed the back of her neck briefly before leaving.

 

Barry gaped at the house. He stepped dangerously close to the edge of the foyer tile.

 

“Shoes,” Harrison said. Barry looked down at his feet, realizing that he was still wearing shoes. He yanked them off, setting them on the little mat Harrison had by the door. Harrison was still working on a way to clean the wheels on his chair so he didn’t have to switch between two different chairs. Although his ‘house chair’ was much better for his custom kitchen and other high counters.

 

“Do you need help?” Barry asked, hands out to help Harrison. But Harrison was already in his house chair. It was one of his own design, meant for turning corners and raising and lowering rather than speed. It couldn’t hold a decent charge, but he didn’t really need it to.

 

Barry’s stomach growled. “The kitchen is…moderately stocked.”

 

Barry helped himself to a whole box of poptarts. “It said in Ana’s report that you called her.”

 

“No I didn’t,” Barry said. Harrison pulled out the papers they’d given him. He skimmed through Ana’s report once then twice. He could’ve sworn that he’d read that. But the words were gone. And the report looked like it had been shifted up a few lines.

 

Barry flew into the far wall, the one made of glass. Ana stopped right next to Harrison, straining against the bags in her arms. One was ripped from her hand and landed by the door.

 

“What the hell?” Barry demanded, rubbing the back of his head. He seemed to be straining to push off more than a few inches from the wall. He was able to move sideways, away from the bag Ana had been carrying. “Ana?”

 

“Don’t ask me,” Ana said. “You guys are the scientists.”

 

 _The multiple atoms theory_ , Harrison realized. He fished inside the bag of fabric and pulled out the one that was physically straining away from Barry.

 

“One of my theories of time travel states that time traveled versions of the same atom will resist coming into contact with each other,” Harrison said. “Barry, take off the backpack and open it. Look for black fabric.”

 

“You mean Ana’s suit?” Barry asked. He walked up to Harrison and Ana. He didn’t have the backpack on.

 

“Looks like we’re going to have to make you a suit,” Harrison said.

 

“Wait,” Ana said. “Did I steal this stuff back from myself because you suggested it or because I thought it was stolen?”

 

“Don’t think about it too hard,” Harrison said. “I’m going to have to insist that you don’t talk to anyone but Joe and myself until we know more. Avoid people you know and places you normally go. This instance doesn’t prove that I’m right about time travel, but let’s not chance it. I’d rather not have a black hole in the middle of Central City.”

 

 

“You don’t remember the actual instance at all?” Dr. Wells asked. Barry grimaced sheepishly. It was his turn to be grilled by Dr. Wells. He wished Ana would’ve gone first so he could have a chance to refresh his memory.

 

“I’m starting to remember everything leading up to it,” Barry said. “Like Felicity coming to town and the double date Eddie invited us on. But when I try to remember how I ended up in Russia, things get pretty fuzzy.”

 

“Repressed memory,” Dr. Wells suggested. He looked over the papers, making little notes of his own. “It’s also possible that you don’t remember because you were passed out from the force of the time jump.”

 

The brief glimpse of Nothingness ate at Barry. “I might’ve seen something. It was…Nothingness.”

 

“Blackness,” Dr. Wells clarified.

 

“No. Nothing,” Barry said. “A void. A lack of anything.” Dr. Wells scribbled on the margins of Barry’s paper.

 

“I suppose I’d have to see it myself to understand,” Dr. Wells said. He paused. “So, apart from temporary memory impairment, any other health issues?”

 

 

“A little higher,” Dr. Wells grunted. Barry had only been away for a few minutes for Big Belly Burger. He cautiously turned the corner. Dr. Wells was lying face down on the floor with Ana perched on his spine like she was a gymnast on a balance beam. She inched her foot between his shoulder blades and shifted her weight gently. There was audible cracking.

 

“Right there,” Dr. Wells sighed.

 

“Food’s here,” Barry said. Ana hopped off, carefully helping Dr. Wells back into his chair. He looked like he was about to melt right out of his chair. Ana placed his feet on the pads before grabbing the bag Barry held out.

 

“Thank you, Barry,” Dr. Wells said. “And you, too, miss.” Barry handed over the burger and fries for Dr. Wells.

 

“You wouldn’t be so cramped up if you would just do your physical therapy,” Ana griped. She dug into her food. “What’s next on the agenda?” Barry sat down and dug in, happy that he didn’t have to answer any more questions. If he was lucky, he’d sneak a nap in after lunch.

 

“You are,” Dr. Wells said. “I’ll be asking you a lot of the same questions I asked Barry. Then we’ll see about doing some scans and tests.”

 

“Tests like blood panels, right?” Ana asked, looking a little nervous.

 

“Blood. And hopefully some physical tests, if that’s alright,” Dr. Wells said. Ana looked relieved.

 

Barry tossed the last wrapper back into the paper bag. “Is there a place I can sleep?”

 

“That hallway. First door on the left. Press your hand to the scanner on the door before you try the knob,” Dr. Wells said.

 

 

Barry finished giving Dr. Wells another round of blood.

 

“This should suffice,” Dr. Wells said. “I think you’re done with tests for now.” Dr. Wells had wanted all sorts of scans and samples from the two of them. He’d used all sorts of devices he’d rigged up himself – things he claimed could help prove time travel.

 

“So where are Caitlin and Cisco?” Ana asked. Barry and Dr. Wells had avoided their names all evening. “C’mon, it wasn’t that hard.”

 

“After we were done with the agreement, we went out to dinner,” Barry said.

 

“How did that go?” Dr. Wells asked.

 

“We agreed that we’ll do things my way until the new year,” Barry said. “We’ll try to…boil the city slowly. Drop serious hints of meta-humans. Get people used to the idea before we officially announce the existence of meta-humans. Whether we’re ready or not, we’ll announce the existence of metas on the first of the new year as well as hand over everyone I’ve captured and all the tools to contain and convict. And then the system will deal with them.”

 

“Doesn’t give you much time,” Dr. Wells said.

 

“I guess we’ll have to make the most of it,” Barry said.

 

“What about meta-humans who cause trouble but don’t mean to?” Ana asked. “What would you do to someone who couldn’t control their abilities?”

 

“Probably contain them, but we’d work on helping them control their abilities,” Barry said. “Maybe figure out a way to neutralize their powers or something. I guess it would depend on the situation.”

 

“How did we get powers?” Ana asked. “It was the particle accelerator, right?”

 

“It was,” Dr. Wells said. He brought up the simulation on the monitors. “We achieved the goal of a particle accelerator. But then the readings became unmeasurable. The explosion itself isn’t what gave meta-humans their powers. It was the dark matter, dark energy, tachyons, and x-elements that were released.”

 

“Sounds…scientific,” Ana said.

 

“Do you know any other meta-humans?” Barry asked.

 

“I do,” Ana said. “We don’t want to hurt anyone. We just want to deal with what happened to us. I’m volunteering for these tests – they aren’t.” She folded her arms across her chest.

 

“I think Star Labs can respect that, don’t you, Barry?” Dr. Wells asked.

 

“Yeah,” Barry said. “I mean, I’m only grabbing the meta-humans who are robbing banks and attempting murder. I don’t see why I should capture people who haven’t done anything.”

 

“Good,” Ana said. She rubbed her wrist.

 

“We should have someone take a look at that wrist,” Dr. Wells said. “What did Caitlin do after dinner?”

 

“She said she had to run an errand before we sat down to a game of D&D with you,” Barry said.

 

“Well, let’s call Caitlin, then,” Dr. Wells said.

 

\---

 

Sleep felt more rewarding when she didn’t have to worry so much about torturing a man. Even if he was a murderer. Nimbus and Stockton wouldn’t have to deal with solitary confinement much longer. Well, not so solitary now that they had each other to talk to. And Cisco wouldn’t have to come in early every day for very long.

 

“Did Barry break his arm?” Cisco asked, holding up the x-ray.

 

“No. A friend of Dr. Wells’ did,” Caitlin said. She slid it away. “Sleep well last night?”

 

“Not really,” Cisco said. “I keep having weird dreams.”

 

“I told you not to have all that sugar before bed,” Caitlin said. She handed him a napkin. He wiped the chocolate off the side of his mouth. “You’re lucky you’re not diabetic.”

 

“Maybe the dreams are _because_ I’m cutting down on sugar,” Cisco said. “I’ve only had sodas at lunch. And I’ve been having smoothies instead of slushies.”

 

“It’s possible,” Caitlin said, relieved to hear that. He’d probably wither away if he couldn’t have double stuff Oreos whenever he wanted.

 

 

Barry soaked in the painting. The biography had left so much out. The artwork around the house were all signed by Dr. Wells. And he had two cats. Mittens was the more affectionate of the two, while Boots slunk behind couches and peered out with her wide blue eyes.

 

And he was helping with Dr. Well’s research. Barry was scrambling to keep up, but he was still helping. Just last night, he’d found some minor discrepancies on some old white boards and helped Dr. Wells fix them. Which unified Dr. Wells’ theory of multiple atoms with his theory on looped time. As well as matched one of the three lone equations on the sparsest of all his whiteboards. Which was how Barry had earned a genuine _hug_ from Dr. Wells.

 

It was like all of his geeky childhood dreams come true. He was a superhero. He’d started working with one of his heroes. And he was working with Dr. Wells on groundbreaking research.

 

 

Harrison stared at the wall. He couldn’t stop seeing the blood on her hands as she reached towards him-

 

He shuddered away from that night. The tests confirmed it. They had two distinctly different powers that, to the casual observer, appeared to be the same.

 

_“I can’t help her-”_

 

Harrison’s fists came down on the table. He couldn’t shake that night no matter how far he ran or which mask he put on. It always found him.

 

“Everything okay?” Barry asked.

 

“It’s fine,” Harrison said. “Sometimes I get a little frustrated with puzzles.”

 

“Did you figure out why the results are different?” Barry asked. A nearby monitor still played the test they’d conducted in the Pipeline. Harrison had known what the results would be. But scientific compulsion demanded that he confirm what he knew.

 

“It’s because the two of you don’t have the same power,” Harrison said. “You appear to have a force field around you. The shape of the field makes you more aerodynamic. If my predictions about it are correct, it will get hotter the faster you go; in turn that heat will break up small particles into even smaller ones so that you don’t blind yourself with a grain of sand.”

 

Barry studied the video. “Which suggests that I’m better built for speed. What is she built for?”

 

“Localized time manipulation,” Harrison said. “Until the other day, she could really only use it to mimic your power. But then you had a collision that energized her enough to make a short hop into the past.”

 

“So I’m never going to time travel,” Barry moped.

 

“I’m certain you will, Barry,” Harrison said. “I just need some time to work out the kinks. Then I think time travel would be very achievable.” Harrison could see the cogs turning in Barry’s head. What that could mean. Barry could go back in time, but could he stop it?

 

“Was Novikov right?” Barry asked, a little water in his eyes.

 

“The science says nothing either way,” Harrison admitted. Even with his own suspicions, he had no proof. “And of course, the only opportunities we’ve had to test it, we haven’t.  I’d say that, for now, we can think of it as being both fixed as Novikov suggested, as well as flux, as _Back to the Future_ suggested.”

 

“Schrodinger’s cat for time travel,” Barry said. He ran his fingers through his hair. Barry got to his feet. “I think I’m gunna go make dinner.”

 

“I actually have to go to the store,” Harrison said. If he had to feed a speedster and a time traveler for much longer, he should consider taking out a mortgage. “It shouldn’t take too long.”

 

 

“Is there anything I can do?” Ana asked, wilting onto the side of the counter. “I already cleaned the house. Twice.”

 

“You can butter the bread. Then spread the cheese on it,” Barry said, taking pity on her. The foyer tiles were so shiny that he could see his reflection in it.

 

“Finally, work,” Ana said. She spread the butter carefully and slowly, like it was going to bite her. “I’ve thought about your request.”

 

“You’ll teach me how to fight?” Barry asked.

 

“My only caveat is that you don’t bitch at me if you don’t keep with your program,” Ana said. “What exactly do you want to get out of learning how to fight? Skills? Exercise?”

 

“I want to be able to hold my own against other meta-humans,” Barry said. “Or at least have a better grasp of how to kick ass when the playing field is a little more level.” Ana sprinkled cheese over the bread. Her eyes were a little glazed over.

 

“We could go at this a number of ways,” Ana said. “We could duke it out, and then I could pick the martial art I think you’d be best suited for. I could give you a run-through of all the styles I know, and then you can pick the one you like best.”

 

“What if I want to master them all?” Barry asked. Maybe he could change his style to fit the meta-human.

 

“Learn, yes. Master, maybe,” Ana said. “Mastering a martial art takes a lifetime. I’ve only _mastered_ one, and I started when I was, like, six. The rest are hobbies.”

 

“So I learn two or three styles simultaneously,” Barry said.

 

“Why don’t we get your body used to fighting, period. Then we’ll talk about multiple styles and blending them,” Ana said. “Do I put anything else on this?” Barry shook an herb blend over the bread.

 

“Toss it in the oven,” he said. “What styles do you know?”

 

“I’m proficient in krav maga. I’ve studied aikido, weng chung, kickboxing, and judo,” Ana said. “I’m also a trained gymnast.”

 

“What are you, a Russian spy?” Barry asked. When did she have time for any of that?

 

“It’s less impressive than it sounds,” Ana said. “Krav maga was derived from aikido and judo. So it’s kind of being fluent in Spanish then picking up a bit of French and Italian. Besides, I’ll need to refresh my memory before I show you anything too fancy.”

 

\---

 

“No, I referred to the Streak, which I'm pretty sure I can top,” Barry said, grin on his face. “What do you think about the-”

 

“Coffee break,” Iris announced, holding up cups of coffee. “I thought I'd bring Central City's finest java to Central City's finest.”

 

“I’ve already had my caffeine,” Barry said, slipping away. Joe looked between them. Iris avoided her father’s prying eyes by looking down at the coffee she held.

 

“What was that?” Joe demanded.

 

“Me trying to make peace,” Iris said. “I said something to him, and I didn’t realize…I said something bad to him. And now we’re fighting. Officially.”

 

“He just…needs some time,” Joe said, patting her on the shoulder. “It’ll be okay. Let him cool off. I’m sure you guys’ll be trading off between chick flicks and sci fi movies before you know it.” Iris mashed her lips together, still staring at the coffee. It didn’t feel that way. She just wanted them to drop the subject and be friends again.

 

“Tell you what, I’ll go check on him,” Joe said. “See if I can be a catalyst or whatever.” Iris smiled at his effort. He went after Barry.

 

 

“Was there anything else you needed?” Dr. Wells asked. Future Barry rapped his fingers on the glass table. Joe looked between Dr. Wells and the screen.

 

“Other than the suit, that’s it,” Barry said. “Wait, wait. You had a note addressed to me.”

 

Dr. Wells leaned back. “What sort of note was it? Envelope? Sticky note? What was the color?”

 

“It was neon,” Barry said, holding up an absurdly yellow envelope. Dr. Wells slipped a white envelope into the bag, just out of sight of the camera. When Joe looked back to the screen, Barry was holding a white envelope.

 

“What color was that again?” Dr. Wells asked.

 

“White,” Barry said. “Sorry. I’m not sure why I said neon.”

 

“Wells was just playing god,” Joe said. “Even though he warned the rest of us not to.”

 

“It was the most harmless way to test it as possible,” Wells said. “Barry, I was checking how fixed time is. Apparently the actions I take affect you presently. And you don’t seem to remember at all.”

 

“Seriously?” Barry asked, double-checking the envelope. He shook his head. “This was neon?”

 

“We have it recording right now,” Dr. Wells said. “I’ll check it when we’re done to see if it stuck. Thank you.”

 

“You’re welcome,” Barry said. The call ended. Dr. Wells skipped backwards. The envelope was white through the entire conversation. But Barry still said ‘neon’. And during the moment when Wells would’ve put in the white envelope, the one on screen flickered bright yellow.

 

“This is…beyond weird,” Joe said.

 

“I know,” Dr. Wells murmured. “Which means that a time traveler could, in theory, change the past. But by changing the past, they could alter their own life. And they’d never know unless someone could tell them otherwise.”

 

“That sounds really dangerous,” Joe said. He could only imagine what a bunch of kids would do with that information. What happened if you undid something that made you who you were? What would happen if you undid the very thing that made you time travel? What happened then?

 

“Good thing he’s not the one who can time travel. Yet,” Dr. Wells said. “Hopefully by the time he can do it himself, we’ll know more. Or at least gained some perspective on the situation.”

 

“And the girl?” Joe asked.

 

“I’ll warn her not to mess with time travel,” Dr. Wells said. “Hopefully she’s seen enough movies to take my advice.”

 

 

“Hey, Bear,” Joe said. “Here.” Joe held out a little red backpack made from friction-proof fabric. It was even in theme with his suit.

 

“What’s this?” Barry asked.

 

“It’s a little something I whipped up with Dr. Wells,” Joe said. “I keep a first aid kit in my car. You should have one. You know, in case it’s something you can deal with.”

 

“Really?” Barry asked, running his hands over the bag. Barry slung an arm around his foster-dad. “Thank you.”

 

“You might also want to take a first aid class. Maybe update your CPR certification,” Joe said. “That sort of thing. Can’t be too careful.” Barry pulled Joe into a full hug. If that didn’t say ‘go be a hero’, Barry wasn’t sure what did.

 

\---

 

Dr. Wells was already dressed and eating breakfast by the time Barry rolled out of bed.

 

“Dr. Wells, today there’s gunna be a robbery,” Barry said.

 

“Barry, you can’t tell me these things,” Dr. Wells yawned. “This is the time to focus on the bigger picture of the space-time continuum. I’m pretty sure life going on is more important than a thief.”

 

 _A thief with a cold gun_ , Barry thought. That was right. Snart had a cold gun, one that Cisco had made. The memories were connecting much better now. Cisco had made the gun and not told anyone. And a man died because of that.

 

“Barry, we talked about this. You can’t interrupt your time stream. We don’t know what will happen,” Harrison said, pouring himself a cup of coffee. “Start prepping for tonight.”

 

“Later today, you hear about a double date I’m hoping to avoid, and you offer for me to stay in the lab,” Barry lied.

 

“I already read all about Detective Thawne’s excruciating attempt to patch things between you and Iris,” Dr. Wells said. He pulled some cereal out of his cabinets.

 

“But someone died in a theater because I wasn’t there fast enough,” Barry said. “Please, Dr. Wells, just give past me a chance.”

 

Dr. Wells rubbed his temples. “I’ll figure something out.”

 

 

“You look stressed,” Dr. Wells said.

 

“Eddie invited me on a double date,” Barry groaned. “But I’m not sure I’m going to go.”

 

“Wait, wait, you’ve been invited to a date with Felicity Smoak and you’re actually thinking about ditching?” Cisco demanded. “You realize that Felicity is very literally Smoak-ing hot.”

 

Barry grinned like he couldn’t help it. “Listen, Cisco-”

 

“No buts, dude,” Cisco said. “You can’t pass this up. If you won’t do it for you, do it for future you. It’s not every day you get to go on a date with someone like Felicity. Do it so you won’t regret it later when you’re older…and I’m pestering you about why the hell you _didn’t go on a date with Felicity Smoking Hot_.”

 

“Okay, okay,” Barry laughed. Over by his computer, Dr. Wells muttered something under his breath.

 

 

Barry checked his phone. He looked up just in time. Across the street, Past Barry slipped, redirecting right into Past Ana’s back. The electricity that normally trailed behind him jolted into her. The water from the puddle Ana was stepping in was defying gravity- And then they were gone. No rip in space. Just gone.

 

Barry started running for the Central City Museum. In his ear, Cisco yelled, “Dude, why were there three people on the map? Where did Barry go? And what’s that one?”

 

“Ignore it, Cisco,” Barry said.

 

“Your com is back on,” Caitlin said, surprised.

 

 _Crap_ , Barry thought. He disconnected it. Of course he’d miss a minor detail like being mad and shutting his comm off. Why would he do something that stupid?

 

 

“What are you guys still doing here?” Felicity asked. “You have to go after him.” Cisco and Caitlin were just laying around like Barry wasn’t getting shot at with a super freezing ice gun. Because good old fashioned bullets just didn’t cut it anymore.

 

“You heard him. He wants to do this alone,” Caitllin said. What was this? They’d been so gun-ho about being a team earlier today. Things had cooled off after Barry had confronted Snart at the theater.

 

"Of course he said that," Felicity said. "He's hurt. You're his team and friends. If I had a nickel for every time the Arrow told me to back off, I'd be as rich as the Queens. Or the Gates. Or the Kardashians. The point is, you have your partner's back. No matter what. He can’t do this alone."

 

 “It’s not like we have a flamethrower lying around,” Caitlin said. “Anymore, anyway.”

 

“I have an idea,” Cisco said. “C’mon. Hurry.”

 

 

Barry dashed over to the people, pulling them out, one or two at a time. He deposited them away from the trajectory of the train. There were just so many. Why couldn’t Snart have tried to get away by bus? Once the train was clear, Barry cleared himself from the mess. The train kept tumbling over itself, onto the beach.

 

The ice knocked him over. Barry gasped for the air that had been pulled out of him. Another blast of ice hit him, coating him in ice. It kept him from getting up. Kept him from getting away.

 

"Pretty fast, kid," Snart said, the crunch of gravel coming closer. A boot pressed down on Barry's back. "But not fast enough. I gotta thank you."

 

"For what?" Barry grunted.

 

"You forced me to up my game," Snart said. "Not just with the gun, but how I think about the game. It's been...educational." He pressed the barrel of the gun onto Barry’s back.

 

"Drop the gun," Cisco barked.

 

 

Caitlin shivered in the cold, holding the fuel chamber. Cisco pulled a lever, making it growl to life. "This is a prototype cold gun. Four times the size. Four times the power."

 

"So that's who you were talking to," Snart said, still looking at Barry.

 

"Hey, unless you want a taste of your own medicine, I'd back the hell up," Cisco said. Snart took his boot off Barry.

 

"Your hands are shaking," Snart said. "You've never killed anyone."

 

"First time for everything, Captain Cold," Cisco said, sounding like he meant it. Snart smiled, looking at the sky. Cisco hefted his gun. "I will shoot you."

 

Snart whipped away from them, already swanning off. "You win, kid. I'll see you around."

 

"Leave the diamond," Cisco said, keeping his barrel trained on Snart.

 

"Don't push your luck," Snart said. As soon as he was out of sight, Cisco dropped the gun. Caitlin set the fuel chamber down, leaving Felicity to keep it upright. They broke the ice that tied Barry down.

 

"Let's get you warm," Caitlin said. She already had plans in the works to make some chicken soup.

 

"That's not a real prototype, right?" Barry asked.

 

"No, it's real," Cisco said. "I was trying to figure out if I actually wanted to shoot him. The kick on this one is crazy strong. And I didn't want to catch you in the blast."

 

"Thanks," Barry said dryly. "How soon will you have a prototype of your smart fibers? I’d love a self-heating suit.”

 

\---

 

"That was...a very long night," Barry sighed, sitting down next to Cisco. Cisco tossed another piece of the prototype off the hunk he was disassembling.

 

"Yeah," Cisco agreed. "And Snart disconnected the signal, so it's not like we can track him."

 

"We'll find him," Barry said. "Together. And next time he won't get away."

 

“And maybe avoid confronting him in a populated area,” Caitlin said, tapping on the tablet she held. “Are you going somewhere?” The question was directed to Felicity, who had her jacket in one hand and rolling suitcase in the other.

 

"Central City is great, and this team is great," Felicity said. "But I should be getting back to my own."

 

"It's been a pleasure to meet you, Miss Smoak," Dr. Wells said. "Give our regards to the rest of Team Arrow.”

 

"Of course," she said, smiling at everyone. Barry pulled himself off the floor with Cisco to walk her to the elevator.

 

Caitlin replaced Barry on the floor. “Need any help?”

 

“Sure,” Cisco said. “How about you sort the parts over there into the bins? Be careful when you touch anything with wires.” Caitlin started picking up things with wires first. Probably to clear them out of her way.

 

“Cisco,” Dr. Wells said. Cisco’s heart sunk.

 

“What did I do wrong?” Cisco asked, looking around. Maybe he was supposed to clean up this mess himself. He hoped he hadn’t gotten Caitlin in trouble, too.

 

"I'm not mad, Cisco. Certain…things have resigned me to the situation,” Dr. Wells said. “You’ve seen the damage that you can cause. You’re the one who made Snart a serious threat to Barry. That’s punishment enough.” He folded his arms across his chest.

 

"But you mentioned that there are weapons, plural," Dr. Wells said. "We need to know what they are so that we can prepare in case we see them." Caitlin’s pickup slowed. She looked at Cisco, a little disappointment in her eyes. Where was a person-vaporizing meta-human when he needed one?

 

"Well, there were three," Cisco said. The guns had all been derived from inventions he’d made. "The cold gun was for Barry. I liked the idea of opposites, so I made a heat gun. I wasn't sure what else we'd need. I thought about making some kind of tornado gun or something that turned things to gold, but then I got to playing with lasers-"

 

"Cisco, what did you make?" Dr. Wells asked, putting his face in his hands.

 

"A really powerful laser beam," Cisco said. "It was sort of for the metas. But I also wanted to build a phaser."

 

Dr. Wells groaned. "That's...great."

 

Cisco waited for Dr. Wells to pull his hands off his face. "So...what now?"

 

 

Felicity jumped, a little shriek coming out of her. Barry started to crack up.

 

"Did I just yelp?" Felicity giggled. Barry nodded, grinning.

 

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," he said. Felicity found his easy warmth so... blindsiding. Infectious. And she knew exactly where Barry got it from.

 

"Remember when you told me that you had a little experience liking someone who didn't see you the same way?" Felicity asked. "That's Iris, isn't it."

 

Barry clearly wanted to deny it. He even started to shake his head a little. "How did you know?"

 

"It's the little things," Felicity said. "The way you linger on her when she's not looking. The smile you fake to play the part of just-a-friend. The quiet dreams you keep to yourself."

 

"Like you and Oliver," Barry reminded her. He paused, looking down at his hands. "I'm afraid it'll change everything."

 

"It will," Felicity said frankly. "But maybe that's not such a bad thing." He had the same worries and insecurities she had. She understood what he was going through and vice versa. They had a lot in common, but enough differing that she didn't feel like she was looking at the male version of herself.

 

Felicity laughed. "What is wrong with us? We are perfectly perfect for each other."

 

Barry shook his head. "Yet we're sitting here pining for people we can't have. I guess opposites really do attract."

 

He leaned in, completely serious now. "If you ever need anything, I will race over in a heartbeat."

 

"Same," Felicity agreed. "Well, as fast as I can run. Which will take a while. But I'll still come."

 

Looking into his green eyes, Felicity could see how things could be. She could see the life they could have together. Barry running in to save people. Felicity in the cortex with the rest of them, guiding Barry from crime to crime. She'd visit Starling whenever she could - with Barry's help, of course. Endless conversations late into the night. Cuddling up with Netflix as background.

 

But that future wasn't for her. It was one she could've had; the one she had wanted nine months ago. A lot could happen in nine months. A lot could change. She kissed Barry goodbye. Kissed goodbye the possibility of being with him. When he pulled away, he rested his forehead against hers.

 

"Goodbye, Felicity," he said, a sweet sadness in his eyes.

 

"Bye, Barry," Felicity said. And then he was gone. She leaned back. As great as Barry was, she knew where her heart really was. With her complete opposite


	7. Blast Radius

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's an explosive meta-human in Central City. Barry spills some beans. Joe reflects on a decision. Dr. Wells deals with Argus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought I’d give Barry a friend from college. I don’t plan on using him that often, but I just think it’s kind of weird that Barry is twenty-five and he’s never really had any friends other than Iris. What, no internet friends? No casual friends from college?
> 
> Also, I didn’t mean for there to be any more crossover for a while. But I did make Bette a character in Keystone, so…

Cisco locked in on his target. There would be no escape. And if, by some chance, the culprit made it to safety, Cisco would come in the night.

 

“Dude, where’s my suit?” Cisco demanded.

 

“Nothing,” Barry said, glancing over at the spare on the mannequin. “And I thought it was my suit.”

 

“You’re using the spare,” Cisco said. He would know the original he’d labored over from the quick copies he’d slapped together. “What. Happened. To. My. Suit.”

 

Barry looked to the security camera before pulling Cisco out of its line of sight. Barry’s voice was low as he said, “Dude, you can’t tell anyone. Dr. Wells will kill me if I do.”

 

“ _I’ll_ kill you if you don’t,” Cisco threatened. Maybe not kill. But definitely get revenge. Cisco had plenty of inspiration from childhood bullies.

 

“Promise me,” Barry said.

 

“Fine, I promise,” Cisco said.

 

“I time travelled,” Barry said. “It was only a few days, and my memory got really shotty for a little while. Which is why I wasn’t so mad at you about the guns all of a sudden. And why you saw two of me on the map.”

 

Cisco folded his arms. Sounded like a tall tale to get him off the scent of something more nefarious. But…there was that weird dreams he’d had.

 

“So what happened to the suit?” Cisco asked.

 

“Dr. Wells did his doctor’s thesis on time travel,” Barry said.  “He hasn’t given it back. And…Cisco, I have some bad news.”

 

“No. Not Scarlett,” Cisco gasped. Not the pretty one. Not his first love. His first success. He almost felt like his heart was going to break.

 

“I probably would’ve gotten some really deep wounds if I hadn’t been wearing your suit,” Barry said. “Ana sure did. She’s a time traveling meta-human. It’s a long story.”

 

“Can I see her?” Cisco asked. “My suit, I mean.”

 

“Dr. Wells has her, and he made me promise I wouldn’t tell anyone. You know, until we know more about time travel,” Barry said.

 

“What’s the damage?” Cisco asked. “You know, so I can get an idea of how to improve your suit.”

 

 

“Hey, Allen!” Aaron called. He was carting around boxes of evidence. They were marked as being KPD.

 

“Aaron, what’s up?” Barry asked. “I thought you were working Keystone arson unit.”

 

“I am,” Aaron said, opening the top box of evidence. “I was thinking you could take a look at some of it. Tell me what you see.” Barry rifled through the pictures, matching up the bags of evidence with where they’d been. It looked like an explosion of some kind.

 

“What the…there’s no oxidizing agent,” Barry said. “Did the floor just blow itself up?”

 

“See, that’s what I said. The owner said that there weren’t any explosives in the building, and there wasn’t anything too explosive in the way of chemicals,” Aaron said. “And I didn’t find any purposeful shrapnel. No detonation devices. I didn’t even find any burned up cell phones anywhere.”

 

“What about security feeds?” Barry asked. Aaron shook his head.

 

“They had it rigged up themselves. Super old school. The tapes were a melted mess,” Aaron said. “Witnesses didn’t say anything about anyone leaving the building. So…I thought I’d come see my old friend with all the special toys.”

 

“We have the same equipment,” Barry said.

 

“No, you have equipment purchased within the last five years. Equipment that doesn’t break down every time it so much as gets cloudy. Systems that don’t take a week to search one database,” Aaron said. “Last month, I had to match a fingerprint at a fire _by hand_.”

 

“Okay,” Barry laughed. “Not like you didn’t do that for fun. All night when I was trying to sleep.”

 

Aaron shook his head. “College is far behind us.”

 

“Well, my first thought is to check the cameras across the street,” Barry said.

 

 

Iris skimmed the article one more time, this time for typos. Her latest article on the train accident was already starting to go viral. The Streak was really starting to bring her blog to a new level.

 

Hopefully, they’d like this one: the Exploding Woman. A woman who could touch anything and turn it into a bomb She was seen primarily in Keystone. She stayed away from public spaces. And she’d been seen with another interesting character: the Burning Man. He could burst into flames and not burn. Surprisingly, he was the more volatile of the two.

 

Iris tapped her phone, temped to contact her photographer. Was it worth the cost to get a picture of the Exploding Woman or the Burning Man?

 

I’ll make you a deal, Iris, she thought. If this entry is a bust, you go get another picture. If it’s not, you don’t need a picture. You can make it with your words.

 

She couldn’t find any more errors in grammar. She liked the tone she’d written. Iris posted the story. She waited, watching as it kept not getting hits. She sighed and shut her laptop. Patience was not her strong suit.

 

 

Barry skimmed through the video. Three guys in and out all through the day prior to the explosion. But then they didn’t get dinner. And then, just a few minutes before the first explosion, a woman and a short hooded person went in through the front.

 

A second later, the first explosion shook the camera. Barry rewound, freezing on the woman. He caught her image for the facial recognition.

 

“You think she’s the one?” Aaron asked.

 

“Maybe,” Barry said. “We’re running the three guys. May as well run her, too.” When he let the video play forward, a new woman and the hooded person walked out. The woman looked roughed up.

 

“Whoa, when did she get in there?” Aaron asked. Barry’s gut clenched. He was more concerned about why three men had a woman in a warehouse that hadn’t been accessed in a week.

 

Facial recognition pinged. “Violent offenders, all of them. Loan shark collector. Domestic abuse. And domestic abuse. They all used to work at Lambertson Construction. Only the loan shark collector was fired.”

 

The facial recognition pinged again. Barry pulled up the woman who’d gone in. Sergeant Bette Sans Souci.

 

“Well that’s surprising,” Aaron said. “Can you print those off for me?”

 

“I can do you one better, I can email them to you,” Barry said.

 

“Our internet is slower than the speed of smell,” Aaron complained. Barry sent them to the printer. “People like to whine about their tax dollars at work. If they’d stop worrying about the potholes on ninth, maybe my department could finally upgrade our tech and actually get real work done.”

 

“I was gunna say something,” Barry said. “I thought KPD was due for an upgrade at the same time CCPD.”

 

“Oh, we were,” Aaron said. “They quit after upgrading all the homicide computers and the meter maid ticket dispensers.”

 

“Where did all the rest of the money go?” Barry asked.

 

“It was reallocated to the potholes on ninth,” Aaron said.

 

“That’s really too bad,” a man said. The two forensic techs jumped. “General Wade Eiling. The bombing you’re investigating was one of mine. I’m going to have to ask for all of your physical evidence and private notes.” Men and women who were clearly soldiers immediately took away the boxes of Aaron’s evidence without asking.

 

“Where’s CID?” Aaron pressed. “What about chain of evidence?”

 

“I’ll send you the paperwork,” General Eiling said, standing next to Aaron. “I’ll have to ask you to delete your facial recognition searches.” Barry carried out the command. Eiling ejected the security disc from Barry’s computer and added it to the pile of other security discs the two of them had retrieved.

 

“Thank you for your cooperation, gentlemen,” General Eiling said. He straightened Aaron’s collar, pat him on the arm, and trot out with the rest of his soldiers.

 

Aaron unballed his fists. “Thanks for backing me up, man.”

 

Barry pulled the papers off the copy machine. “You’re welcome, man.”

 

Aaron gaped. “We can search for these guys!”

 

“Hey, that guy is going to be watching you,” Barry said. “Since it’s your jurisdiction. But he won’t track down Joe. It’s not Joe’s jurisdiction.”

 

“You’ll keep me posted though, right?” Aaron asked.

 

“Of course, man,” Barry said.

 

 

"Bette Sans Souci,” Cisco purred, admiring the Army’s official photo of her. Caitlin shook her head. She couldn’t really fault him for being attracted – Bette was very pretty. And Cisco was very, _very_ single.

 

“KPD got ordered off the case," Barry said. “And I offered to keep investigating quietly.”

 

"Who has the power to do that?" Caitlin asked. Maybe the FBI? She could see them investigating. Homeland Security, maybe.

 

“Technically, only CID has the power to do that, since Bette is Army. But the general made it seem like we didn’t really have a choice,” Barry said. “I think his name was Eiling.”

 

"General Wade Eiling," Dr. Wells said, entering the room.

 

"You know him?" Caitlin asked.

 

"Oh, I know him," Dr. Wells said. "About ten years ago, General Eiling contacted me about developing enhanced gene therapies and communication skills for soldiers on the battlefield. To make a long story short, Eiling's true intent was to develop mind reading techniques for interrogation purposes. His techniques were.... Well, our split was less than amicable."

 

Caitlin had heard stories about that time. When she'd joined Star, there weren't a lot of employees left from that era. Most of them had moved up or moved on. But she'd heard about the table Dr. Wells had upended in his effort not to hit Eiling.

 

"He took pretty much all the evidence from the bombing," Barry said. "All we really have is the tape.”

 

"Well, the VA finally joined us in the new millennium with digital records," Cisco said, typing away. "There's a lot of redacted info. Bette Sans Souci was an EOD specialist for the Army."

 

"EOD?" Caitlin asked.

 

"Bombs," Cisco said.

 

"Is there an address?" Barry asked, leaning over Cisco's shoulder.

 

"One person in case of an emergency," Cisco said. "Cameron Scott. Keystone." Barry was gone in an instant.

 

Caitlin sat back, going to her lab work. She looked through her papers. She had a file missing. She checked her roster. Brandy’s name had been removed.  When had that happened?

 

 

Barry finished searching the house. Cameron Scott didn’t have much in the way of indicating that a woman had been there recently. Although there were plenty of pictures of the two of them.

 

“Barry, facial recognition just picked Bette up in Keystone,” Cisco said. He dictated the address. Barry was familiar with that area. There were a lot of homeless who liked to hang out there. There were more than a few derelict buildings to find shelter in.

 

It didn’t take him long to get to the area where Bette had been seen. And once there, she moved to the side, away from the others. When Barry stopped in front of her, she jumped.

 

“You’re not-,” she said, her expression changing from confusion to anger. “Stay away from me.” Bette folded her arms and started walking away.

 

“Hey, I can help you,” Barry said, grabbing her arm. She pushed him away. As soon as she did, the anger in her died into horror.

 

“Get that off you,” Bette said. Barry looked at his suit. Where she’d touched, violet was starting to grow. Barry hurtled down the street, stripping.

 

_I suppose I really am the Flash now_ , he thought. His suit exploded behind him. He ran right back to Bette, who was trying to escape into the sewers.

 

“Hey, I know Eiling is after you,” Barry said. “And I can help.”

 

 

Barry pulled on some Star Labs sweats over his boxers. Bette wobbled a little, her hair windswept around her face. She hesitated before edging over to the trash can and braced herself there.

 

“So Bette is a meta-human,” Barry said. Cisco realized something.

 

“Where’s my suit?” Cisco asked. No. This wasn’t happening. Not two suits in two days.

 

"It's...gone," Barry said. "It blew up, dude. I barely managed to get out of it before it went _kaboom_."

 

"My suit went... _kaboom_ ," Cisco choked. He’d slaved over that reinforced tripolymer blend for months. And Barry was going through suits like most people went through socks. This was a code red. This was DEFCON 1. The Tardis was exploding. Get the Free Magic creature into a bottle. Release the hounds. Release the kraken. This had to stop.

 

“My bad,” Bette said. She stood up straight, running her fingers through her long, red hair.

 

"The ability to cause spontaneous combustion upon tactile contact," Dr. Wells said, rolling into the room. “It’s nice to meet you, Miss Sans Souci.”

 

"You have, like, three more," Caitin said.

 

"I have two," Cisco clarified. "And I loved that one."

 

“Shouldn’t you have three?” Caitlin asked. Cisco chewed his lip. No more slipups about time travel.

 

“You said you could help me?” Bette asked into the trash can. “You are going to help me, right?” She looked around at the group. Caitlin sprang into action.

 

“I’d be happy to run some tests,” Caitlin said. Bette shrank away from Caitlin, a sharp look in her eye. Caitlin hesitated. “Nothing…invasive, of course. A little bloodwork. Mostly scans.”

 

“I can do scans,” Bette said, reluctantly following Caitlin, but careful not to touch.

 

 

The restaurant was almost empty. Only the wait staff remained, and had been paid liberally to look away from the two patrons who were surrounded by soldiers.

 

"It's good to see you again, Dr. Wells," Amanda said, lifting her glass to him. Harrison didn't return the motion. She didn't drink; instead, she set the glass down.

 

"The weapons that came out of Star most recently were against my wishes," Harrison said.

 

"Of course they were," Amanda said, waving them off. She probably already had an army of scientists trying to reverse engineer them. "What I'm more interested in is a certain red streak-”

 

"I will burn you to the ground," Harrison said, not bothering to raise his voice. "Every Argus agent. Every outpost. It will all burn."

 

"Threats, Harrison?" Amanda asked, sitting back. "Aren't we past all that?"

 

"You don't forgive and you don't forget," Harrison pointed out. "Only the threat of complete annihilation of everything you know and love will deter you, Amanda. I'm sure you'll reap the fruits of my labor before long. Be patient."

 

Amanda grinned, tracing her glass with a long finger, as if she'd extract some secret from the wine with the right kind of coaxing. Or maybe she'd make a knife spontaneously appear.

 

"Be careful, Wells," she said, still smiling. Still trying to press all his buttons. Harrison pictured a little Amanda in an elevator, running her hands down all the buttons to all the floors. And the one to the fire alarm. "You forget who you're talking to."

 

"I know exactly who I'm talking to," Harrison said, yanking the napkin off his lap. He tossed it onto his spotless plate. "I’m talking to the same Argus director who failed to recognize her own resources and tried to wipe out a whole city. What about Project Asclepius? Project Radio? You could’ve used those or any number of resources, but you _didn’t_.”

 

Amanda's smile faded into her terse neutral look. Harrison folded his hands on his plate.

 

"The non-aggression agreement between us will end if you keep coming to Central City uninvited," Harrison said. "I highly suggest you make you and your soldiers scarce within the next hour."

 

"And how will you reinforce that, Dr. Wells?" she asked, leaning in, a single eyebrow raised. Her hand was fiddling with her silverware. Especially the knife.

 

"Like you, Miss Waller, I have my ways," Harrison said. He backed his chair up, pushing the soldiers away. "Let's not ruin what we have, right?"

 

 

The new blog entry wasn’t as popular as Iris would’ve hoped. But she had three thousand hits and counting. It wasn’t what she was hoping for. But it was enough. She checked the comments, excited to hear what her readers were thinking.

 

It was mostly the same as the others. People wanting pictures. Others arguing that she could photoshop them. A mixture of people complimenting and trashing her piece. She ignored those who professed disliking it without describing what was wrong.

 

It was her first completely non-Streak blog entry. Watching the hits counter going up and up made her puff up a little. If she hadn’t already put her name on the blog, she would do it now.

 

 

Star labs seemed to rattle and wheeze like a sleeping monster. Bette returned to the cortex. Dr. Wells was in a manual wheelchair. He dabbed at his electric chair with a paintbrush. It had gone from black to blue with red flames.

 

“Why are you painting it?” Bette asked.

 

“While there is absolutely no scientific reason to believe so, there is a part of me that truly deeply believes that racing stripes and flames make a vehicle go faster,” Dr. Wells said. He set down his paintbrush.

 

“Every day I wake up and,” Dr. Wells opened his hands, grasping at the words. “…I am reminded that there are those who are still hurting because of what I did. People who lost something. People who lost someone. People who now have uncontrollable powers that they didn’t want. I’m so sorry I did this to you, Miss Sans Souci. We will do absolutely everything in our power to remedy your current situation.”

 

Her resolve to completely disbelieve everything he said shook. She hadn’t expected that such a man would feel any kind of remorse or contrition. Bette honestly hadn’t thought that Harrison Wells was capable of it.

 

 “Including Eiling?” Bette pressed.

 

Dr. Wells nodded. “I can handle General Eiling.”

 

“Not everyone can,” Bette said. “There are others whose powers aren’t as spectacular as mine. They don’t have the training. They aren’t safe.”

 

“I’m not going to let Eiling touch another meta-human without seriously regretting it,” Dr. Wells said. Even riding on the heels of his apology, Bette found herself skeptical. If he couldn’t keep a building from exploding, how was he supposed to help anyone?

 

\---

 

There was something very...cold about the room.

 

Bette was on the hospital bed, staring at the screens. Caitlin and Cisco stood near each other, not looking at Bette. Dr. Wells had his hands steepled as he observed the scene.

 

"What's wrong?" Barry asked. This felt like the time the principal came into his classroom to pull him out of class because his dad's verdict had come back. "Did Eiling find out that you're here?"

 

"No," Bette sighed. Her voice wobbled a bit. "Caitlin was about to give me the bad news."

 

Caitlin finally broke away from Cisco. "The shrapnel in your body has merged with you on a cellular level. The technology to unsplice your DNA hasn’t been invented yet."

 

“But that didn’t stop me from sending out feelers to CEO friends. Palmer Tech and Mercury Labs are both working on it, and they’ve agreed to send me some of their initial findings,” Dr. Wells said.

 

"I need a minute," Bette said, heading for the door. "I think I can cry without blowing stuff up." The alarm started going off. Cisco went to a monitor.

 

“Uh, Army guys coming up the elevator,” Cisco called. He started heading for the door. Caitlin followed. They guided Bette down the hallway. Barry was going to join them when he realized Dr. Wells wasn’t following.

 

“You go with Bette,” Dr. Wells said. “I’ll deal with Eiling.”

 

 

Harrison was sick of Eiling.

 

Sick of the hate. Sick of the elitist, exclusivist ideology that spouted from that tainted mouth. The paranoia. Harrison no longer had the violent fantasies of disemboweling the general. No. Now he simply wished to be free of him.

 

"Harrison Wells," Wade said, standing at attention. The soldiers infiltrated Star, searching for Bette. They wouldn't find her. "How the mighty have fallen."

 

"General," Harrison said, already tired of the dance of power. But after his little show with Amanda, he couldn't depend on her interference.

 

"Star Labs," Wade said, leading into remarks that he felt would rub salt in a wound. "This place used to be so important. Tell me, what does one do after such a spectacular, public failure?"

 

"What do you want, Wade?" Harrison snapped. He couldn't even attempt a facade of patience any longer.

 

"Where's my asset?" Wade asked. Asked as though Bette was a piece of property. As though he could bend her until she broke because it was his right to do so.

 

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Harrison said. The lie was smooth. But Wade had decided that Harrison knew about Bette, therefore, Harrison had information. Wade motioned. A pair of soldiers dragged a half-beaten man over.

 

"We tracked her here, Harrison," Wade said. "We even found her boyfriend lurking outside your door. Turn her over to me before you see the rest of your precious palace crumble."

 

Harrison desperately wished for an excuse – anything to destroy Wade and everything he held dear. Harrison would have to rescue this young man soon.

 

"Oh, Wade, Wade, Wade," Harrison breathed. _What you don't know will kill you all the same._

 

Wade motioned to his soldiers. They infiltrated Star, guns at the ready. If they entered any room of actual value, their guns would hardly protect them. Not that such rooms were easy to locate.

 

"We could've changed the world, you and I," Wade said.

 

"I already have," Harrison retorted.

 

 

Caitlin tossed another toy into Bette’s pile. It had started out as practice. Now it was just pure rage. Bette ripped at the items, tossing them away from her like they were a grenade. Because they were. It was like she was pouring out all her pain and frustration out all at once.

 

After Ronnie had died, Caitlin had stayed in bed for three days. She barely ate or drank. Ronnie’s parents planned the funeral with Cisco’s help. And it was Cisco who’d shown up to her apartment bright and early on day four. He had two cups of coffee and a bag of muffins. While she forced herself to eat, Cisco raided her closet and got out a black dress.

 

She sort of wished that after the funeral, she’d gone and done something like this. Not turned stuffed rabbits and old frisbees into bombs. Done something primal and angry and messy. Destructive. Yelled at the sky and shaken her fists at the world for taking away the love of her life.

 

“Cisco, I thought you said you were cutting back on sugar,” Caitlin sighed. Cisco had a slice of cake in front of him.

 

“I am. I had eggs and toast this morning instead of cereal. And I’ve had half the sugar in my coffee,” Cisco said. “On top of that, I’m not having a soda for lunch. I think I deserve to have desert first. Besides, life is short, and this carrot cake is sinful.” He held out the first bite for Caitlin to try. She eyed Cisco warily. He knew she wasn’t a fan of carrots. But she tried it anyway.

 

The cake tasted nothing like carrots. It tasted of sweet honey-nut delight. The icing had cream cheese in it. It wasn’t too heavy, not too light. That bite of cake was every bit as decadent as Grandma Snow’s devil’s food cake.

 

“That’s not carrot,” Caitlin accused. That was too good to have a vegetable in it. Cisco had his own bite.

 

“I’ve decided that life is too short for things that are just sweet. They have to be amazing and sweet,” Cisco said. Now Caitlin remembered why she hadn’t needed to be mad at Cisco for all his jokes so soon after the funeral. How could she be mad with Cisco there to suck all the bad energy out of the room?

 

“You know, I think you’re right,” Caitlin said, flushing. She looked away. A very bad idea was worming its way into her head. Her and Cisco? They were just friends. Always had been. Always would be. Besides, her heart still ached when she thought of Ronnie. She couldn’t even think about moving on with someone else until she was moved on from Ronnie.

 

 

Cisco turned the corner, holding the sonic gun out. He’d made it using the prototype speaker Caitlin had made him retrofit. It wasn’t like the other guns. This was more of a way to stun someone while he ran away.

 

Which turned out to be pointless. Only Dr. Wells was left in the lab. Cisco turned to the others, “It’s clear.”

 

They filed in, cautiously approaching the Dr. Wells who had his face in his hands.

 

“What happened?” Barry demanded. “Did he hurt you?”

 

“Not me,” Dr. Wells sighed, sitting back in his chair. “Bette, he has Cameron.” Bette sat down hard. Her gloves started turning violet. Barry whipped in and out. In the distance, Cisco thought he could hear the explosion.

 

“Cameron’s your boyfriend?” Cisco asked. There was no way someone like Bette didn’t have a special someone. Bette nodded, balling her hands into fists.

 

“What does he want?” Bette growled, her voice choked with unshed tears.

 

“His favorite lab rat,” Dr. Wells grimaced. “I’ve already took the liberty of tapping into the Army’s private communications. They haven’t been saying anything useful like where he is. If we knew where he was, we could plan a rescue. At this point, we might have to fake a trade and have Barry pull the two of you out of there.”

 

Bette got back on her feet. “You guys start planning a trade. I have an errand to run. Don’t make the call until I get back.”

 

“Whoa, whoa, where are you going?” Cisco asked. “If you step outside, they’ll start tracking you.”

 

“I didn’t say anything about walking on the streets, did I?” Bette said. “There’s a meta-human I need to go see.”

 

 

The blog was just getting more and more popular. Joe rubbed his temples. The more he tried to keep Iris away from it all, the more she got into it. Soon Barry revealing his powers to her would be the least of his worries.

 

_If she were to know, couldn’t she adapt to it? Couldn’t she make an informed decision?_

 

Joe didn’t like to think that Dr. Wells could be right about this. All he wanted to do was wrap his precious baby in bubble wrap and keep anyone from ever hurting her. But that wouldn’t give Iris the room she needed to have a family of her own. It wouldn’t allow her to grow any more as a person.

 

He’d promised her. No more secrets. There were things he couldn’t tell her. But maybe letting her know about the existence of meta-humans wasn’t a completely terrible idea. Maybe once she knew, she could be convinced that she needed to stop writing about Barry. Because her writing about metas could lead one right to her door.

 

 

Barry checked his watch. “It’s been an hour. Where the hell is she?”

 

“Not all of us can get across the city in less than four minutes,” Caitlin pointed out. “And she comes from Keystone, right? Wouldn’t it take her a while to get through Keystone?”

 

“You literally couldn’t get from Central City to Keystone through the sewers. The two cities are on completely different utilities. We have absolutely nothing interconnecting,” Cisco said. He started typing on the computer. “The Army communications say she’s going to meet up with them on the waterfront.”

 

"She's not turning herself in," Barry said. He suited up. It wasn’t hard to locate her what with all the huge Army trucks around her. She was surrounded by a lot of downed men. A blond man stood close to the waterfront while Bette reached for General Eiling.

 

Barry stopped in front of her, blowing her hair back. Bette didn't lower her hands.

 

“What are you doing here?” she demanded.

 

“Being a soldier doesn't mean you're a murderer,” Barry said. “Don't become one now.”

 

“No!” the man screamed. Barry barely had time to react. He and Bette crumpled. He was so shocked that it only felt like a mosquito sting through his side. But his legs felt like jelly. It was weird to think he’d never been shot before. He turned and struck Eiling across the face.

 

“Bette,” the man – Cameron Scott– panted, “Bette, stay with me.” He pressed his shirt to the wound.

 

“I’m so sorry,” Barry said. “I didn’t see him.” He slumped over to her. Pain throbbed through his waist.

 

"It's...s'not your fault," Bette said. She was shivering. "G-glad you stopped me, Barry."

 

"We have to get you to Star," Barry said, reaching under Bette. Cameron reluctantly let her go. Even as Barry lifted the redhead, a rattle left her chest. She’d bled out already.

 

Barry returned Bette to Cameron’s arms and shook his head. Cameron wrapped himself around Bette. Barry held his side with one hand and closed Bette’s eyes with the other. Barry panted against the pain. It was a lot worse than hitting the treadmill and flying into the boxes.

 

Bette's skin began to glow violet.

 

"We have a problem," Barry announced, touching his communicator.

 

“Is Bette okay?” Cisco asked.

 

“No,” Barry said. “Eiling killed her. She's glowing – she's gunna detonate.”

 

“Oh my god,” Caitlin said. “A mass that size, the explosion would be devastating. You guys have to get her away from the city.”

 

“The shot went through my side,” Barry said. “There's no time to get her away.” He looked around for options. The water. There was a reason they tested new weapons in the water – it was an excellent heat sink and could easily absorb the blast.

 

“Can I run on water?” Barry asked. He would do the math himself if he knew what variables he needed. “How fast would I need to go?”

 

“Approximately six-hundred fifty miles an hour,” Dr. Wells said.

 

“I’ve never gone that fast,” Barry realized, staring out at the ocean. The harbor was clear today. “I’ve never gone that fast on my fastest day.”

 

“Barry, dude, you _traveled through time_. You can do this,” Cisco said. “Just…make sure you get out of the blast radius asap. Kay?”

 

Barry sort of wished he had someone who could give him a boost of kinetic energy. At least his side was starting to become a dull throb. The blood had already clotted around the wound. He reached for Bette one more time. Cameron handed her over. She was missing her necklace and jacket. These Cameron kept. They weren’t glowing at all.

 

Barry backed up a bit before running out at the open ocean. He kept running. He pictured that the water was just really wet mud. Wet mud. He could do this. Just go faster.

 

 

“He murdered Bette right in front of me,” Barry said. The news cast was watched by the whole team. Cameron sat in a corner, stroking the necklace she’d worn. Her jacket lay across his lap, lifeless without its owner.

 

“Powerful men have a way of avoiding consequences,” Dr. Wells said. He rolled over to Cameron. “Why did you come to Star?”

 

“I came…for a couple reasons. I found out how meta-humans were made,” Cameron said. “I wanted you to help Bette.”

 

“And the other reason?” Barry asked. He itched in his suit. It was so hot, but having someone else know his identity wasn’t high on his priorities.

 

“I had to talk to Dr. Snow about Ronnie Raymond,” Cameron said. “I’m a private investigator for Greyston Investigations. There’s an unidentifiable individual who we believe may be related to Mr. Raymond. We were hoping she could help us.”

 

“Who’s this man?” Caitlin asked. Cameron went to one of the computers. He logged into the Greyson Investigation website and pulled up a picture of a man. Caitlin held her hand to her mouth.

 

“He could be Ronnie’s brother,” she gasped. “How did you catch on to him knowing Ronnie?”

 

“The fact that some of his fingerprints matched helped,” Cameron said. He pulled up a picture of Dr. Martin Stein. Barry had met Professor Stein on the train once. “Do you know if Ronnie had any connection to this man?”

 

“I can’t say that he did,” Caitlin said. “I’d be willing to help you get a sample of Ronnie’s DNA if you like.”

 

“That would be very helpful. Was Ronnie involved with something called ‘Project Firestorm’ or any transmutation studies?” Cameron asked.

 

“He wasn’t, but Dr. Stein asked me to review his research on Firestorm,” Dr. Wells said. “He was supposed to bring it the night of the particle accelerator turning on, but he never showed up.”

 

“He went missing that night,” Cameron said. “He hasn’t been seen or heard from since.”

 

“Hold on just a second, who told you that we call them meta-humans?” Cisco asked.

 

“A meta-human,” Cameron said.

 

“Ana told you,” Barry said. Cameron froze for a second. But he nodded.

 

“We can have Dr. Snow run the comparison of this John Doe and Ronnie Raymond,” Dr. Wells said, not tearing his eyes off the screen. “No charge, of course.”

 

Cameron shrugged and logged off. “I’ll get it to you as soon as I can.” Cameron picked up his things and went out the door without another word. Caitlin went to her corner, gathering her things.

 

“Barry, didn’t I tell you not to tell anyone?” Dr. Wells growled quietly. “Telling Cisco counts as telling someone.”

 

“He burned up a suit,” Cisco whispered. “I’m not just gunna let something like that go. Besides, how could you not tell me that Barry _time traveled_.”

 

“What are you guys being all secretive about?” Caitlin asked, glaring at them.

 

“We were…trying to be delicate about Barry’s latest medical issue,” Dr. Wells said. “But, Barry, she’s your doctor. You have to tell her about the friction burns. The ones...” Dr. Wells motioned to the crotch area.

 

Caitlin blushed. “You have friction burns on your…I’d suggest the same treatment as anywhere else. And next time use a lot of lube, Barry. Make sure it’s not flammable.”

 

Barry glared at Dr. Wells who grinned like the cat that ate the canary. Barry grabbed Caitlin and Cisco. “C’mon guys. Let’s go get food. I could eat my own arm right about now.”

 

 

“I should’ve known you’d come crawling back without my permission,” Harrison said. Amanda leaned against the railing. They looked up at the broken glass and warped metal that had once sealed Star Labs.

 

“A giant bomb going off in Central City tends to draw my attention,” Amanda said. “I thought I’d look into things. I will deal with General Eiling. And you and the rest of your team can contain these meta-humans. If they start getting out in enough numbers, I’ll sic Eiling on it.”

 

“You’re going to sic a power-hungry, war-mongering, sexist racist on the job?” Harrison asked. “When you deal with him, please count the number of times he refers to you as a female dog. I’m betting he’ll say it thirty times before you break down and shoot him.”

 

Amanda’s lips went taught. “Set your city straight, Wells, or I’ll do it for you.”

 

She started walking away, her heels clacking almost inaudibly against the tile. “Nice paint job, Optimus Prime.”


	8. (Mostly) Honest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony Woodward isn't the only meta-human in town. Joe enlists Wells in hunting for Nora Allen's killer. Caitlin and Cisco share some moments. Star (sort of) does things legally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying a new format.

Barry stumbled back. His assailant pounced, jabbing him in a blur before landing a solid kick.

            “Barry!” Cisco yelled. Caitlin froze in the doorway, unable to look away from the yellow and blue lightning snapping off the pair of speedsters.

            The two pulled away immediately. Now that they were clearly visible to the naked eye, Caitlin could see that the two were in training gear, complete with head protection and gloves.

            “Work on reading your opponent’s movements,” the small woman said, her mouth still full of a guard. “That’ll help you figure out their weaknesses. Other than that, good job.” She pat Barry on the shoulder. He grunted, wincing a little.

            The woman vanished in a flurry of blue lighting. Caitlin held her tongue about how Barry had just let a stranger into Star without telling anyone. While it was Barry’s choice of who to reveal his identity to, was it such a good idea to tell every other meta-human he met?

            “You’ve been training?” Cisco asked. “Like _Karate Kid_? Is it like ‘wax on, wax off’?”

            Barry peeled the mouth guard out. “It’s more like getting my ass kicked every day.”

            “Maybe you should lay off it,” Caitlin said. Already, Barry was sporting some serious bruises on his arms. His coach couldn’t go easy on him? “Maybe go a little easy on the hits. Take tonight off. Cisco and I are going out for drinks tonight. Join us?”

            “I asked her to go hard on me,” Barry panted as he pulled off his gear. “I need to get better. I want to be ready in case I have another Stockton. And I’d rather be running around than sitting in a bar, miserable that I can’t even get the tiniest bit buzzed.”

            Cisco shot Caitlin a look. He’d been like this ever since Bette died. Cisco had done everything to try to help Barry get over it. It seemed like it was Caitlin’s turn. Her mind turned over various compounds that could be used to get Barry drunk. That wasn’t the issue. But maybe getting a little buzzed could help him process. Or at least sit down long enough to talk about it.

 

 

“Sorry I’m late,” Caitlin said, taking the stool next to Cisco. “I think I almost have a solution to Barry’s can’t-get-drunk problem.” She slid the compound over to Cisco. Cisco could barely make heads or tails of it. He recognized it as biological, and that was about it.

            “I ordered for you,” Cisco said. Caitlin tried the drink.

            “Wow, you even got the dash of peach schnapps,” Caitlin said, admiring what appeared to be a volka cranberry. It actually tasted more like apples with a tinge of pomegranate and peach. “Thank you, Cisco.”

            “No problem,” Cisco said.

            “Is this seat taken?” a guy asked. He was wearing a nice suit jacket and a crisp white shirt. Caitlin glanced at him, scooched her chair closer to Cisco’s, and smiled.

            “Not at all,” Caitlin said, laying a hand down on Cisco’s like they were together. Cisco waved with his free hand in a friendly gesture that subtly let the guy think Caitlin was taken. Like Cisco could ever get a girl like Caitlin.

 

 

Iris shut the laptop. As soon as she did it, a pair of arms grabbed her. Wind whirled around her. The world was a blur. And then she was on the roof, standing on her feet. She nearly fell from the shock of standing.

            "You're welcome," the Streak said. He faced her from across the roof. The hospital light was right over his shoulder. She realized that he was talking about her post.

            "How did you - I just posted that," she protested.

            "Speed reading," he said.

            "How do you do that to your voice?" Iris asked. He was going to ask her not to write about him, and she wanted to get in as many questions as she could.

            "I need you to stop writing your blog," he said. That was fast. Just go right for it.

            "People need to know that you exist," she said. They needed the hope he gave her. The excitement that there was something more in this world. Now she knew why Barry hunted down the impossible. Not just for closure, but because it was fascinating.

            But he'd lost hope about finding closure.

            "What else can you do?" Iris asked. Her phone was vibrating. She ignored the call. "Can you shoot lighting from your hands? What's your favorite color? Do you have any hobbies?"

            "This isn't an interview," the Streak said.

            "Wait, your favorite color is red, duh," Iris said. "You have to give me something. Anything. Maybe what your favorite animal is? A cheetah?"

            She couldn't see his face. He was careful about that. But she could see his body. His very nice body. Very long and lean. The suit didn't leave much to the imagination.

            "You're not hearing me," he said, stepping closer to her. Could she make out the planes of his cheeks in the dark?

            "My hearing is fine," Iris said. "Just selective. What should I call you?" He had to have a name in mind for himself. Barry used to make up names for himself on the off chance he gained super powers. She'd even come up with a few for herself.

            " _Anything_ but 'the Streak'," he said.

            "Any suggestions?" Iris asked. Lightning Boy? Zippy? Speedy?

            "What about your friend?" he asked. The Streak whipped around her, standing in a deep shadow. "What would happen if what you were doing put you in harm's way?"

            "We're...not exactly on the same page these days," she said. "Besides. This is so much bigger than him." Couldn’t he see what he was doing? Spreading hope to everyone in Central City?

            "And you still want me to help solve his mother's murder?" the Streak asked.

            Iris hesitated.

            "I'm not sure that he wants that," Iris admitted. "But if I can't help him, at least I can help other people." Sirens blared through the city. The Streak pressed a hand to his ear, like he was hearing something else.

            "To be continued," he said. The world turned upside down again when she was in his arms. And then she was standing in Jitters again, alone.

 

 

The police had taken up a whole two city blocks for the blockade. They were still struggling to evacuate people. A hulking metal meta-human roared and _threw a car_ at the police block. Barry only just barely got all the officers out of the way.

            Evidence that the officers had tried to shoot the man lay strewn across the street. Bystanders were pulling loved ones hit by ricochets away from the action. Barry carried these people to the ambulances first.

            He returned to the meta-human. How was he supposed to fight someone who was made of metal? There didn’t appear to be any seams. There was no chink in the armor. There was only protection.

            “Is anyone there?” Barry asked into his comm. Caitlin had already taken off after Cisco, but maybe Dr. Wells was hanging back. If he hadn’t gotten Joe’s frantic call, he’d still be patrolling elsewhere.

            The meta-human uprooted a light pole and swung at Barry. Barry ducked, backing away. Between morning training with Eddie and lunch training with Ana, Barry had learned a lot. For one, he learned that he was a lot better at it than he had been in middle school. And for two, fighting hurt. It hurt when he hit with his bare hands, and it hurt when he got hit.

 _Don’t be afraid of the pain_ , Barry told himself. If he hit the metal at a high enough velocity, he could damage this guy. He took a breath and swung at the metal man.

            Barry’s fist buckled against the steel cheek. He gasped, holding his hand. Shock was keeping him from feeling the brunt of it. The metal arm swung at him. Barry stepped back a little too quickly, running into one of the retreating bystanders. She shrieked.

            A pulse of energy shot out. Barry and the meta-human were knocked to their knees. All the car alarms on the block started going off. His very bones were groaning. His skin was crawling. Barry could swear that his suit was bunching around his body. On the other side of the sidewalk, the metal man was shrinking into a kid. Into Tony Woodward.

            Vertigo washed over Barry. He couldn’t pass out here. He couldn’t let people know.

 

 

Even with meta-humans and superheroes and every other crazy thing going on, Caitlin wouldn’t have believed it if she didn’t see it. Dr. Wells was pulling Barry’s jacket off, well, Barry. He had Barry’s brown hair and a childlike set of his jaw. But it was unmistakably Barry.

            “The x-rays are over there,” Dr. Wells said. Caitlin held them up to the light. She only needed to see them for a second before she started to go to work, fixing child-Barry’s hand. They were so small in her own.

            “Dr. Wells, is this a side effect of…?” Cisco asked. Caitlin turned on the two of them, ready to rip them to shreds.

            “Side effect of what?” Caitlin snapped. They were keeping more things from her? How was she supposed to treat her patient if she couldn’t even get a straight answer?

            “Barry recently experienced temporal reversion,” Dr. Wells said. “I don’t believe this is an effect. He should experience no ill effects, as that is not his power.” He wasn’t saying – That was ridiculous, even by recent standards.

            “Time travel?” Caitlin asked. Even with the evidence lying next to her, it was a lot to swallow. “Like _Back to the Future_?” She kept fixing the boy’s hand. She didn’t have any baseline for how to treat someone who was suffering the ill effects of time travel.

            “More or less,” Dr. Wells said.

            By the time Caitlin was done fixing the hand, she was ready to sleep for three days. When Star had been bursting with people, she had avoided the cots. But she found herself stumbling over to one.

            Cisco was already there, swiping through an app. Caitlin pulled a cot next to his and lay down, inhaling the smell of sweets and bar soap.

 

\---

 

Barry sat up. Dizziness set in, threatening a convulsion from his stomach.

            “Whoa, careful there, Sleeping Beauty,” Cisco said, steadying him. Had Cisco’s hands always been so enormous? Had his voice always felt so reverberating? “You’ve been out for a while. Do you remember what happened?”

            “I hit a man,” Barry said. His voice sounded weird. Did he have a cold? Could he even get a cold? “A big, bad man. He was made of metal. And then there was this…pulse. And – he turned into a kid.”

            “I hate to break it to you, but you’re a kid, too,” Cisco said. He held up a mirror. Barry’s teenage face stared back at him. “You pretty much shattered your entire hand. And Caitlin knows you time traveled because turning into a kid could be connected to that.”

            “It wasn’t,” Barry said. “I mean, first, why would it happen so long after the event? And why would someone else be effected, too? I bet it was the chick I ran into before it happened. She’s probably a meta-human.”

            “Joe’s coming in soon,” Cisco said. “We didn’t tell him about…this. We thought it would be easier to show him.”

            Joe. Work. Barry looked down at himself. Cisco had dressed him in a Star Labs Camp t-shirt and some shorts that were too big. He couldn’t go to work looking like this.

 

 

“Detective West,” Harrison said. “Did you hear about Barry's incident last night? He’s in the cortex.”

            “I'm not here for Barry,” Joe said. “I'm actually here for you. I need you to help me solve an old case of mine.” Harrison crossed his arms.  
            “What case is that?” Harrison asked, sure of what Joe was going to ask for.

            “The murder of Barry's mother,” Joe replied.

            “Before I help you,” Harrison agreed. Joe was probably going to change his mind when he saw Barry. “I think you need to see Barry.”

            “Is he okay?” Joe asked, suddenly worried. They turned the corner. “Barry?” Little Barry hopped off the bed.

            “Hey, Joe,” he said. “So…I was turned into a kid.”

            “You’re not the only one,” Joe said, less surprised than Harrison had anticipated. So the meta’s power extended out. Was it a lateral or radial movement? “Singh is having a field day. We’ve got at least fifteen people who got turned into kids, and we have twelve hospitals reporting the same.”

            Barry ran his hands over his face. “I don’t want to join the other people who turned into kids.”

            “You know Singh isn’t going to care about that,” Joe said.

            “The meta-human from last night might be there,” Barry said, crossing his arms. “I’d rather not be stuck in a room with Tony Woodward.”

            Harrison looked to Joe, “I thought I warned you about Tony last month.”

            He was too exhausted in all senses of the word to read the room properly. That information shouldn’t have been revealed to Barry. If Harrison had all his wits, he would’ve confronted Joe in private. He’d been up too long, struggling with demons to realize this.

            “You knew?” Barry demanded. “How could you not tell me?”

            “Barry, Tony wasn’t a threat at the time,” Joe said. “And you’d just woken up. I didn’t want to add another stress onto you.” Barry grimaced, looking away from Joe.

            “Come on, Barry,” Harrison said gently. “Let’s get you to CCPD.”

 

 

Iris pushed past the hordes of reporters, glad that her dad was so well known at the precinct. Eddie was the first to receive her. He pulled her in, using his body to shield her from the cameras. He pulled her into the office, into a side-hallway that wasn’t busy.

            “I know about the kids,” Iris said. Who _didn’t_ know something fishy was going on with kids having heart attacks? Eddie nodded, somber.

            “Iris, the only reason you got in wasn’t because you’re my girlfriend or Joe’s daughter,” Eddie said. “You’re here as family of a victim.”

            “What?” Iris asked. Had Barry been reverted to a kid? Joe? She kind of hoped it was her dad. He’d been an adorable kid. But she’d already seen him this morning, and he’d been an adult.

            “Barry got turned into a kid. Although, if Barry hadn’t been turned into a kid, Singh wouldn’t have believed any of this,” Eddie said. They started heading up to the lab. Inside, Barry was on a stool, observing something under a microscope.

            “Aww, you look so cute,” Iris said. He looked just like he had when they were kids. Pre-growth spurt and everything. Okay, so he wasn’t her dad. But still super cute.

            “Yeah, just when I get abs, I get turned into a kid,” Barry griped, hopping down from the stool. He slipped into his computer chair, looking over some files. His hands weren’t quite as steady with the keyboard.

            “Allen, get ready to go to Mercury Labs with the other survivors,” Singh said. “I’ll give you a few minutes with Iris.” Barry opened his mouth like he was going to fight Singh on it. Singh held up his hand, and Barry closed his mouth. He balled up his fists and stared at the ground as Singh left the lab, dragging Eddie with him.

            It didn’t make sense. So what if Barry was younger now? It wasn’t like he was going to be forced to repeat high school or anything. It was like the fountain of youth. Sure, he’d probably be prevented from drinking and stuff for a few years. That would suck.

            ‘Survivors’. That meant some had begun to die, right? Did that mean Barry was next?

            “I’m more useful here,” Barry muttered rebelliously. Iris hugged him before she realized that they were supposed to be fighting. He threw his arms around her.

            “I’m so sorry, Barry,” she sniffed. “I didn’t mean to brush you moving on off like that. I know it still hurts a lot. I just want you to be happy.”

            “I know,” Barry said. “I just…I don’t know. I’m scared.” Iris picked him up. It was the first time since they were in middle school that she’d actually been able to pick Barry up.

 

 

Did all women who worked in a lab dress up so much? Or was it just Dr. McGee? Apart from Caitlin, Joe only worked with CSI where skirts and heels weren’t practical. Maybe it was the press in her lobby that had something to do with the deep blue dress and low neckline.

            “I’d like Star Labs to have primary care of Barry,” Joe said. “And have them collaborate with Mercury Labs.”

            “I don’t mean to accuse, but Harrison didn’t happen to ask you to do this?” Dr. McGee asked.

            “I’m offended,” Wells griped. “These are Detective West’s honest feelings. Star Labs helped stabilize Mr. Allen after the accident with our particle accelerator. We are well aware of Mr. Allen’s medical history and various medical conditions. And there is no reason that Mr. Allen should not be allowed the right to privacy.”

            “I know, I just wanted to see you get all ruffled,” Dr. McGee said, winking at Wells. Wells folded his arms across his chest, looking more like a petulant child than Barry. “I have a station on floor three that your people can access. And…I am always looking for more biochemists and mechanical engineers.” Harrison started grumbling as he wheeled himself out of the office.

            “Thank you for your time, Dr. McGee,” Joe said, shaking her hand. He sure as shit hoped Caitlin and Cisco didn’t leave Star now. Something told him that Barry wouldn’t always get the medical attention he needed at Mercury. At least not with the same freedoms he got at Star.

 

 

“Your childhood nemesis is now an unstoppable meta-human,” Cisco said, trying to lighten the mood. “And the two of you are kids again. That is seriously messed up.” As it turned out, being reverse-aged ten years could be lethal. People kept having heart attacks seemingly at random.

            “I had a childhood nemesis,” Caitlin said. “Lexi La Roche. She used to put gum in my hair.”

            “Mine was Jake Puckett,” Cisco said. “He’d give me a swirly if I didn’t let him copy my homework.”

            “Now that we've established that we're all uber-nerds, how do we stop Tony?” Barry asked.

            “Well, for one, we could turn you back into an adult so you have an advantage,” Caitlin said. “Thank god I looked into Danton Black’s research. He was looking into making adult cells into stem cells. I think I can reverse the process by turning your stem cells into adult cells.”

            No one even mentioned what would happen if Tony had a heart attack. Which would be uncool to say and to happen. But still.

            “He’s not even here,” Barry said. “I already looked at all the other victims really carefully. None of them are Tony. How are we even going to find him?”

            “Maybe we should let it leak that adults are becoming kids again. And then dying,” Caitlin said. “I mean, Iris’ blog is getting really popular. If she could get the word out that this is happening, we could get more victims in. Maybe even get Tony or the person who did this.”

            “But she could get in trouble with Captain Singh,” Barry said. “Or get Joe and I in trouble.”

            “Maybe she’d let me publish something on her site?” Caitlin asked. “All I have to do is write up a little research paper on the topic.”

            “Hold on,” Cisco said. “What about DejaMu? You used to blog all the time. Why not now?”

            “My blog was never as popular as Iris’,” Barry said. “Besides, who’s going to take mine seriously? It’s on Real Truth. Half the people on it believe we have lizard overlords.”

            “I’ll do it,” Iris said.

            “How long have you been standing there?” Caitlin asked. Long enough to have heard them talking about trying to catch Tony Woodward?

            “Long enough to know that you’re trying to get the word out about adults becoming kids,” Iris said. “We have to stop whoever is doing this. And the only way to do that is to help those who are out there as kids and warn people who haven’t been turned yet. We have to stop this-this-”

            “Meta-human?” Cisco offered. Barry rolled his eyes.

            “Yes. We have to stop this meta-human,” Iris said. “Anyone have a computer I can use?”

 

 

Harrison Wells was a man of technology. He surrounded himself with computer screens and cables. And when Joe had presented the boxes of evidence, true to a man who relies on technology, he wanted it all scanned in. To look at on all the swanky computers.

            Wells stirred his drink, staring at the evidence. He didn't say anything. All the explanation, and nothing to say. Or maybe he was just thinking.

            "Excuse me while I play devil's advocate," Wells said. "Despite all the evidence that Henry Allen is guilty, now you believe that Barry’s Man in Yellow is responsible?"

            "Last night, I saw Barry in action up close," Joe said. "It looked exactly like what Barry described happened to him. It got me thinking: what if someone with Barry's ability killed Nora?"

            "That is a reasonable thought," Dr. Wells said, setting his drink to the side. "But there's a fatal flaw to your theory, and that's that all of this-" He swept his hands around, encompassing the whole of the case on all the screens. "-happened fourteen years ago. Long before-"

            "Your machine gave Barry his powers," Joe said. Of course Dr. Wells would say that.

            "An accident gave Barry his powers," Dr. Wells corrected. Joe would have to go at this a different way.

            "Do you think it's possible that someone with super speed could have existed before the explosion?" Joe asked.

            Dr. Wells opened his palms, as if he had nothing to offer Joe. "Suspending myself as a scientist, believing for a moment in all the wild urban legends out there...There's never been a story before Barry's of anyone with super speed. At least, nothing that couldn't be explained by an adrenaline rush.

            "But the fact is, I am a man of science," Wells continued. "I _do_ deal in probabilities. On the one hand, you have a singular event that clearly marks when meta-humans begin. But... I do believe Barry. I do think there was someone in his house that night. But, the fact is, there's no way that a meta-human was created fourteen years ago."

            Wells' tone cut off that trail. For now.

            "Then where should we look?" Joe asked. "If you were going to investigate this, where would you look?" Wells stroked his clean-shaven face. He flicked through some of the different pieces of evidence, focusing on some of Barry's 3D models of how the crime happened.

            "For one, I'd make Barry check his work," Dr. Wells said. "The knife hit Nora Allen's ribs - he didn't factor that into his equation. That will change the force and direction of the knife. As well as the potential height of the murderer. Second, I'd double-check the whole family. Nora Allen. Henry Allen. Their parents. Siblings. Even Barry. Recompile the list of suspects."

            He wasn't thinking like a detective. That was too many suspects. Too many people to track down. Too many interviews.

            "How would we narrow it down?" Joe asked.

            "Look at the data, see who had the most reasons for wanting to kill Nora," Wells said. "Get more data and you can start to see the patterns."

            Wells wasn't a detective. But he was a scientist.

 

 

The CSI lab was crippled without Barry, and Singh had strict orders not to bother Barry. Barry had worked over 20 hours this week as an adult. If CPS found out about it, would they have a field day? But it wasn’t like he was on the clock right now. This was just a favor for a friend.

            “Hey, Eddie,” Barry said. He was so…extra-super baby-faced. And tiny. “What’s up?”

            “Do you think you can run this sample?” Eddie asked, holding out the evidence bag. “Maybe keep it between the two of us?” Barry inspected the bag.

            “Woodward?” Barry asked. “I’m not familiar with that case.”

            “Last night a guy named Tony Woodward took a car joyriding. He ripped an ATM out of a wall. And before that he stole a bunch of kegs from Rusty Iron Brewing in Keystone,” Eddie explained. “When we went to detain him, he threw a car at the blockade. He was in the middle of one of the kid-epidemic. I was hoping you could apply some of your science magic to it. See if you can find out where he was last.”

            “I’ll do my best,” Barry said. “The equipment it a bit big for my hands.”

            “You really grew up though,” Eddie said, thinking back to when he’d been about fourteen.

            Eddie had been a land whale. And his only friend had been Duck. She wasn’t always much to look at, but sometimes he caught her before she went to one of her meets. She’d be all dolled up in her leotard, ready to kick ass at gymnastics. She taught him to fight back. Of course Eddie had been transferred to another school before he could tell her how he felt. So he’d worked hard to be someone she could love. Maybe that was her last gift – making him shoot for her so that he could be the kind of guy Iris could love.

            Did Barry have a story like that? Did he have a crush on Iris? Was it stupid to be jealous of Barry even if he wasn’t crushing on his girlfriend?

            “Yeah,” Barry said.

            “Hey, I’m glad you made up with Iris,” Eddie said. “From my experience, good friends are hard to find.”

 

 

Iris posted the article. She’d really just thrown it together. She hadn’t even bothered with spellcheck. She’d been more worried about making sure the pictures of the victims ‘then and now’ showed up right. Already, she was getting lots of hits.

 _Please, please let the meta-human be caught soon_ , she prayed.

 

 

“I figured it out!” Eliza exclaimed. She hugged Caitlin. “See?” She pushed the papers into Caitlin’s face. Caitlin dropped her own results to scan these.

            “They’re dying because their bodies can’t handle the sudden swing in hormones,” Caitlin realized. “People who were closer to being teenagers or who have wide-swinging hormones as adults haven’t been effected as strongly yet. And, people were only aged one to two decades. So not everyone was turned outright into a kid, so they’re a bit more stable, too.”

            “The other bio-engineering department is working on stabilizing the people who were older and changed to kids,” Eliza said. “All we have to do is figure out how to reverse this.”

            “Easier said than done,” Caitlin said. “Since stem cells can become any other cell in the body, we have to be careful not to turn what should be a liver cell into a brain cell. And I’m getting a lot of calcification on these here.”

            “I’m going to go over Dr. Black’s research real fast and see if I can help you,” Eliza said. “Maybe all it takes is someone looking at it with fresh eyes.”

            “Thanks,” Caitlin said, turning back to her work.

 

 

“Bad news,” Cisco said, slowing as he ran into the private lab Dr. Wells and Joe were in. “So, we had a lot more heart attacks than we realized.”

            “What does that mean?” Joe asked. “More adult-kids had heart attacks?”

            “Not like that. Kid-adults,” Cisco said. “Anyone who was an adult got reverse-aged at _least_ ten years. Anyone who was a kid was speed-aged at least ten years. CCPD has already started rounding up as many as they can.” He noticed that Joe and Dr. Wells were looking at a CCPD case. Dr. Wells turned all the screens to the Mercury Labs screen saver. Great. More things at Mercury he wasn’t allowed to see.

            “Sorry, Joe, I’m going to throw my hat in the ring,” Dr. Wells said.

            “I didn’t know you know anything about genetic engineering,” Cisco said.

            “You are aware that I have more doctorates than you and Caitlin combined, right?” Dr. Wells asked. He had over five doctorates? Cisco had barely managed to get two. He didn’t know how Caitlin had gotten three.

 

 

“Are you sure you want to wait for the results with me?” Barry asked.

            “What else am I supposed to do?” Cisco asked. “Caitlin and Dr. Wells are off being rockstars. And I’m not allowed out of the approved areas. I’m stuck here with you.” The computer started blinking.

            “Seventy-six percent hematite,” Cisco said. “I’ll cross-reference that with places that might produce or use hematite...Keystone Ironworks’ mine.” He started looking up more about it. And Cisco thought he was the one who wasn’t able to do anything. Barry was just sitting there doing nothing.

            “It was shut down ten months ago,” Cisco said. “It’s been abandoned ever since. It’s a perfect place for someone to hide.”

            Barry’s phone rang. He picked up.

            “Hey, Iris,” he said, grappling the now gigantic phone with both hands. “How’s it going?”

            “Work is letting me out early,” Iris said. “I thought I’d stop by with some sweets. Kendra baked your favorite: banana nut cake. The one with that texture you like.”

            “That sounds amazing,” Barry said. “Are you sure-”

            “Tony? Tony Woodward?” Iris asked. There was a shriek on the other end of the line. “HELP.”

            “Iris!” Barry yelled, gripping the phone like there was no tomorrow. Gripping and yelling even though the line was dead.

            “Cisco, Iris ran into Tony,” Barry said. “I don’t have a suit anymore.”

            “Oh ye of little faith,” Cisco said, picking up a duffle bag. “While you were asleep, I fired up the Star Labs industrial fabricator.” He pulled a small yellow and red suit out of his bag, flourishing it to Barry.

            “What the hell is that?” Barry demanded. He didn’t want a suit that made him look like the man in yellow. But did he really have the time to be picky?

            “It’s your Kid Flash suit,” Cisco said. “Also, I ran out of red dye. It was this or green, and I think we can both agree that this is better.”

            “This is,” Barry reluctantly agreed. He slipped into the suit. It was fit perfectly to his body.

 

 

“Tony, you don’t have to do this,” Iris said. “There are people at Mercury Labs who will help you. I don’t have to say anything. You can just go in there and get help.”

            Like Barry, Tony had reverse-aged to the time when they’d all been kids at Carmicle Middle School. Minus the braces and the spiked hair. But no less of the anger.

            “I’d have to turn myself in, stupid,” Tony growled, pounding his chest. “That freak did this to me, and you’re going to tell me how to find him.”

            “Who did this to you, Tony?” Iris asked. Tony’s fists turned to metal. He broke one of those weights that lifters used. He threw one piece into a metal shelf. It dented, wobbling precariously.

            “Leather. Boy,” Tony seethed. “Who is he?”

            “I don’t know who the Streak is. But I know he didn’t do this to you,” Iris said. “I’m trying to find the person who did this and make them turn everyone back. I can’t do that if I’m locked up here, Tony.”

 

 

Keystone Ironworks had seen mostly derelicts and rats since its shutdown. If the nibbled trash and wafting pee spots were any indication. The only definite sign of human life were the tracks of metal coming out of a smelting vat. That was until Barry discovered the little ‘living room’ setup, complete with dirty underwear and half-empty cans of beer.

            “Cisco, I found him,” he said. Cisco still wasn’t answering.

            “Is someone there?” Iris whisper-called. Barry was over to her in a second. She was cuffed to a sturdy pipe. And Barry had left his lockpick set at home.

 

 

There he was…four feet tall and deep in shadow. His costume was red and gold today.

            “Are you okay?” Little Streak asked. “He didn’t hurt you?”

            “No,” Iris said. “He wants me to help him change back into an adult. I hadn’t realized that you were turned into a kid, too. He thinks that you can somehow turn him back.”

            “That’s ridiculous,” the Streak said, coming up close to inspect the cuffs. Even as a child, he had long cheekbones.

            "He can change his skin. His hand transformed," Iris said, swallowing her suspicions. “It was like an iron fist. He’s like you. A meta-human.”

            "Yes," the Streak said. "And writing about me is what brought him to you." He touched the cuffs, vibrating them off. He helped her to her feet. She saw Tony first, but she didn’t have time to warn the Streak. He went flying.

            “You’re trespassing, freak,” Tony snarled. “There’s nowhere to run.” Even at fourteen, Tony’s powers had changed him so much that he could topple a whole shelving unit of heavy equipment down on the Streak.

            Iris ran. Ran like she’d never run in her entire life.

 

 

Caitlin swung her feet back and forth. Now Cisco didn’t have to be bored alone. Now they could both be useless and not allowed to do anything. Except maybe wait for Barry to wake up.

            “Uh,” Barry groaned.

            “So that was stupid,” Caitlin said. She crossed her arms over her chest. Her incredibly flat chest. Puberty was going to hit her like a ten foot wave.

            “What? Who are you?” Barry asked.

            “It’s Cisco and Caitlin,” Cisco said. “The meta-human who turned everyone into kids came back. We could’ve used you because apparently people who are already reverse-aged can’t be reverse aged twice in a row. And Tony is still on the loose. With Iris.”

            “You guys are kids?” Barry asked. She didn’t blame him. Caitlin had bought some kid clothes for the two of them. They looked pretty much like they had in middle school. Except their hair had stayed the same length as it had when they were adults; Caitlin’s went almost all the way down her back.

            “How did you guys pull me out from under the shelving unit?” Barry asked.

            “We didn’t,” Caitlin said. “Joe did. He’s also the one who changed you into those clothes and cleaned you up so it only looked like you got tuckered out while getting lost.”

            “What were you thinking? No backup,” Caitlin said, knowing the answers as she asked them. “No idea how to stop Tony. You should be dead right now. You were in cardiac arrest when Joe found you.” Barry turned over in his cot to avoid them.

            There was only one answer: Iris.

 

\---

 

While he enjoyed regaining his youth, it didn’t undo the injuries he’d sustained during the particle accelerator explosion. Or change the fact that people were still dying.

            “Let’s start with the more pressing,” Harrison said. “Feylinn Dobbs. Who is she?”

            “She’s a child who was recently kidnapped by her aunt. There was an amber alert out on her,” Joe said. “Right now we can’t even ask her if she can help until a child advocate or her parents arrive.”

            “Mercury Labs has all the other survivors stabilized,” Dr. Wells said. “But we still need to get to her as soon as possible.”

            “What about Tony Woodward?” Barry asked.

            “I’m getting to him,” Harrison said. “Cisco and I did some calculations on the compression strength of the metal Tony uses to protect himself. What was that number again?”

             “Mach one-point-one,” Cisco said, finding the number.

            "You want Barry to hit something at eight hundred miles an hour?" Caitlin snorted. Barry joined her skepticism.

            "Um, it's eight-hundred thirty-seven, actually," Cisco corrected.

            "That's faster than the speed of sound," Caitlin pointed out.

            "I know," Cisco gasped. "He would create a sonic boom, which, as I've said before, would be awesome.” Harrison had to agree. A human breaking the sound barrier without the help of a jet.

            “I’ve never gone that fast before,” Barry said.

            “Yet,” Harrison corrected. “You keep getting faster and faster. You could do it.”

            "I can't believe we're actually _entertaining_ this idea," Caitlin protested. "He'd need a straight shot from miles away."

            "Yeah," Cisco said. "Five-point three miles. Theoretically."

            "Do it right, you'll take him down," Harrison said.

            "Do it wrong, and you'll shatter every bone in your body," Caitlin said.

 

 

Crime didn't stop. And neither did the lobby of Mercury Labs. Eddie had to push past the press and the worried bystanders. Everyone wanted to know more about this ‘child epidemic’ that was ‘sweeping the city’ even though it had only infected about fifty people total. Finally, Eddie made it out of the lobby and into the rooms where the patients were being kept.

            Barry was surrounded by a lot of other adult-kids. A lot of them were doing kid stuff like playing tag or coloring. Barry was one of the older ones.

            “Hey, Barry, can I get a second with you?” Eddie asked. Barry hopped up, looking like he needed a break from all the boredom.

            “We got an anonymous tip that led us to Woodward’s hideout, but he wasn’t there,” Eddie said. “State troopers sent in a picture of him heading out of town. We lost him.”

            “Crap,” Barry hissed.

            “I didn’t know you had a history with Woodward,” Eddie said.

            “Listen, it’s really great that you’re trying to be a friend to me, but please, please stop,” Barry begged. “Things got even worse between me and Iris after the double date. Please don’t prod me about Tony.”

            "Hey, I had my fair share of bullies at school," Eddie said.

            "Somehow I find that hard to believe," Barry said dryly.

            "I was short, fat, a nerd, and the son of a politician who closed the factory in my school district," Eddie said. "So not so popular."

            “Okay, so you got pretty and it stopped,” Barry said.

            “No. My best friend always stood up for me,” Eddie said. “I wanted to do it myself. It wasn’t until I was transferred that I actually got to. So I got my ass kicked. A lot. But I remember what she told me. The key to fighting is patience.”

            “I know you’ll probably never tangle with Woodward again,” Eddie said. “But if you ever have another bully come after you, remember to keep your cool. You’re a smart guy. You’ll figure it out.”

 

 

The whole thing was shady.

            Barry spends the majority of his life talking about the impossible, _blogging_ about it, watching documentaries on it, and even tracking it down. Then, he suddenly decides that he's not interested anymore. He tries to get Iris disinterested, claiming that he wants to move on.

            It appeared reasonable. He finally wanted to move on without closure. That was fair.

            But there were things that set off all Iris' alarms. He knew why Iris had started writing about the Streak. She hadn't told anyone but the man in red himself. The Streak didn't want to be written about. Barry tried to discourage her. Barry had turned into a child. So had the Streak.

            He almost certainly wasn't the Streak. If Barry had super-powers, Iris would've been his first stop. But there was no way he wasn't in contact with the Streak. It was hard to believe that the impossible happened in Central City and Barry hadn't figured out a way to track it down.

            “Eat,” Tony snapped, tossing down some junk food around Iris. More beef jerky, soda, and chips. Not even a vending-machine sandwich.

 

 

“I appreciate you coming down,” Joe said.

            “These days it's rare to find someone these days who's happy to have a drink with me,” Harrison said.

            “Actually, the conversation yesterday got me thinking. You said that as a scientist, you deal in the probable. And we've both seen things that have redefined the possible,” Joe said.

            “Yes, we have,” Harrison agreed. “And we both know the direct cause of those things.”

            “Your accelerator's explosion,” Joe said.

            “Evolutionary leaps follow the creation of new technologies,” Harrison said, waving his glass with a flourish.

            Joe laughed. "Like the Roomba."

            Harrison smiled. "I actually had a cat who rode one of those things. It was the cutest little thing."

            "You have cats?" Joe asked. Dr. Wells didn't really seem like an animal person. And if he did have a pet, he seemed like the kind of person who'd go for a dog. Like a German shepherd or a Doberman. Something that would obey him.

            "Two of them," Dr. Wells said, nodding.

            “So, humor me here,” Joe said. “So, if we know that meta-humans were created by the particle accelerator, and testimony shows that a meta-human may have been involved in the murder of Barry's mother, what's to say that there wasn't another particle accelerator?”

            “I have spent nearly a decade and a half of my life developing the technologies that would allow a particle accelerator like my own to exist,” Harrison said, stirring his drink. "I had to create new technology. I had to labor for years to make the particle accelerator more than just a bunch of scribbles on vellum. I'm afraid, detective, that a second particle accelerator is a dead end."

            Okay. Joe could swallow that. Fourteen years ago, phones had been big and clunky. Only pagers had texts. There was no such thing as a tablet. Technology had come a long way. But, taking a leaf out of Barry's sci-fi book, technology still had a long way to go.

            "What about a time traveler?" Joe asked.

            Dr. Wells stopped stirring. He leaned back. Joe could almost see the cogs turning in his head.

            “I think, Joe, that you may have stumbled onto a very real possibility,” Dr. Wells said. “The only problem is, why would anyone travel back in time to kill Barry’s mother? If they were trying to hurt Barry, why not just kill him? Joe, your theory is legitimate, which means that we may have no idea who the killer is. They may not have even been born yet.”

            “So how do we catch him?” Joe asked.

            “I have no idea,” Wells admitted.

 

 

“You can do it, Feylinn,” Caitlin said. “You can’t do anything to hurt him, remember?” Their current patient’s eyes darted between Caitlin and Feylinn.

            “I can’t,” she gasped. “It only works one way.” Caitlin glanced over at the window where all the scientists were gathered, taking notes. Dr. Wells rubbed his temples. Caitlin hopped up and drew the curtains, bringing the number of observers down to two. When she sat back down, Feylinn looked much more comfortable.

            “Hey, Feylinn, why don’t you tell me what it’s like?” Caitlin asked. “How does it feel when you use your power?”

            “It’s like…like my heart is full of water that’s flowing out,” Feylinn said. “And there’s so much that I can’t catch it all.”

            “Why is the water flowing out?” Caitlin asked, not really sure where either of them was going with this.

            “Because I’m not big enough to hold it all,” Feylinn said, looking sad.

            “Feylinn, you are an incredible young woman,” Caitlin said. “You can hold whole oceans inside of you. You just have to try. Maybe try drinking the ocean around you.” It had to work.

            Feylinn closed her eyes. She inhaled. She sat there, her face screwing up more and more. Beads of sweat started forming on her forehead. Finally, she sent out a pulse. Caitlin’s skin started to crawl. Her bones started aching as they stretched back into their normal size. She ripped right out of her clothes, as did the other patient.

            “I did it!” Feylinn gasped, wobbling on her chair a little. “Dr. Caitlin, I did it!” Caitlin was thanking her lucky stars and garters that she’d insisted on wearing a lab coat. She pulled it closer.

            “Great job!” Caitlin said. Forty-eight more people to go.

 

 

Barry didn't know what he could've done different. Maybe stayed closer to Iris? Made sure that she was allowed to be in the private area where Star Labs was being allowed to operate? Cisco was working as fast as he could to find Iris using the Star Labs satellite.

            It was hard not to wonder what would’ve happened if Joe had told him that Tony was in town sporting meta-human abilities. Barry might’ve been able to catch him before Iris was kidnapped…by a kid. To rage against Joe wouldn’t do any good – Joe was beating himself up enough about this. But why hadn’t Dr. Wells mentioned anything earlier?

            “Found her!” Cisco crowed. “Thank god for automatic updates. She’s in a warehouse in Keystone.”

 

 

In another situation, Iris might feel sorry for Tony.

            He'd been a bully. The top of the pyramid throughout elementary and middle school. High school had been a little more difficult, but he'd started climbing the ranks the moment he got there. But that was it. After high school, he had nothing. That was his peak. She could see it as he stared at the yearbooks in his lap. Reliving the glory of being able to get what he wanted because of his athleticism and force.

            "Tony, you can turn yourself in before it gets worse," Iris said. "My dad is friends with the DA. If you let me go, I'll have him talk to her for you. It's not too late."

            "Yeah it is," he said. Too late for what? For him to turn himself in? Or to make good life choices? He was in the body of a child now. If Mercury and Star tried, they should be able to stabilize him like a child. Give him a second chance at life.

            "Cops are already looking for me," he continued. "Get ready to cover the showdown of a lifetime, cuz I'm not going out without a fight."

 

 _Whoosh_.

 

            Iris turned first. There he was, the security light from outside shining behind him. His suit was a little ripped on the shoulder. But it was him. All four feet of the Streak.

 

            “You just won't stay dead," Tony snarled. He put himself between Iris and the Streak.

            " This is between us. Let her go," the Streak said.

            "I could," Tony said. "But I'd prefer to make her watch as I break every bone in your body." Metal coated Tony's whole body. Only his hair and clothes didn't turn to metal.

            "Tony Woodward, you're under arrest for kidnapping, motor vehicle theft, and grand larceny in the third degree," the Streak said. As he read Tony his rights - before he'd even caught Tony, Iris moved back, giving the two of them room.

            The Streak came at Tony, a blur of red and yellow movement and gold lightning. His punches didn't seem to do anything. And it wasn't like Tony was doing much damage. The Streak was too fast to catch.

            If they couldn't hurt each other, how was it supposed to end?

            By pure luck, Tony's metal fist caught the Streak. The boy in red and gold tumbled back. He was on his feet in a moment and gone. The front doors slammed behind him.

            "There goes your hero," Tony jeered.

 

 

"He made it out," Cisco sighed. "Barely." He couldn’t hack into the security cameras of the warehouse in Keystone – it was on a closed circuit. All he had was the GPS coordinate, Barry’s vitals, and whatever came through the comms.

            "Why did he stop?" Caitlin asked, her voice back to normal. Cisco glanced at her. She’d reverted to being an adult. "He's miles away from the warehouse." Cisco checked the map more closely.

            "He's five point three miles away," Cisco crowed. "No, way, he's gunna do it!"

 

 

Barry closed off the chatter in his ear. He leaned down into the running position he saw runners in before they started the race. He glared towards the warehouse. It was time to put an end to all this.

            Barry ran. Ran so fast that it felt like his feet weren't even touching the ground. Ran so fast that car alarms went off around him. Ran so fast that his heart felt like a bird fluttering. So fast that he felt a shift when he broke the sound barrier.

            It was raw, uncontainable power flooding into him. It made him so hot he thought he might burn up. He thought he'd melt the doors of the warehouse as he smashed through them and flew across the hallway. Pain splintered up his arm as his fist collided with Tony's face with the groan of a girder buckling under the weight it bore. Barry caught a glimpse of the metal vanishing off Tony's face, starting from where his fist had been.

            And then Barry tumbled into a set of lockers. Cisco crowed happily in his ear. It was ov-

            Tony stood at his full kid height, intent on Barry. Iris jumped in, giving him a solid punch. Tony hit the ground with a slightly squishy _thud_.

            "Nice right cross," Barry groaned.

            "Yeah," Iris hissed, holding up her hand. "I think I broke my hand."

            "Me too," he chuckled.

            “Is it bad that I punched a kid?” Iris asked.

            “He’s not a kid,” Barry said. “Not in this case.”

 

 

Harrison watched Tony get to his feet. Miss Feylinn still hadn’t been able to transform everyone back into adults. Tony would be saved for last.

            "What is this?" he demanded. He pounded on the glass with metal fists. The glass held firm. "Where the hell am I?"

            "You were arrested for stealing a vehicle, grand larceny, and kidnapping," Harrison said. "This will serve as your jail until your trial. This arrangement was requested by the CCPD."

 

            "You're the fuck who blew up the city," Tony said. "Who the fuck do you think you are?"

            "Oh, just an honest fuck who's lending the shell of his detonated bomb to the city to contain you," Harrison said. "You were booked while you were unconscious. However, we couldn't determine if you would need an attorney supplied to your or not. Will you, Mr. Woodward?"

            "Fuck you!" Tony bellowed, bringing his fist down on the glass one more time.

            "I take that as a yes," Harrison said. "You will be supplied an attorney tomorrow morning along with your phone call.”

            "I'm gunna get out of here and kill you," Tony snarled. He stabbed the glass with a metal finger. “Kill. You.”

            "Alright," Harrison said. "In the meantime, you have your cell, some magazines, and dinner. Good night."

            "What?" Tony asked. The Pipeline hatch came down in front of Harrison. Tony's violent yelling could be heard up until the moment it shut and locked.

            Harrison hung his head. It had been a long few days. He made his way upstairs to where the kids stood. Well, adults now. Harrison had managed to keep from being re-aged until Feylinn had gotten a full eight hours.

            “That felt amazing,” Barry sighed.

            “Are we gunna just stand here or are we gunna take down the next bully?” Cisco asked.

            “I think that’s more than enough for tonight,” Caitlin yawned. “Cisco, do you need a ride?”

            “Sure,” he said. “I’m so glad I’m out. They didn’t let me play with any of the toys – the _real_ toys. I didn’t even get to look at them. Do you know what kind of torture that is? Knowing that there’s amazing stuff just behind that door, but don’t even touch the keypad or you’ll set off an alarm?”

            The two of them strolled out of the cortex, both a little jerky. Almost as if they weren’t used to the height. Barry was out of there like a bolt of lightning. Only Joe remained, leaning against the wall, clearly trying to decipher something about Harrison.

 

 

“Why didn’t Star Labs build a time machine instead of a particle accelerator,” Joe asked. “You don’t seem like a man who wouldn’t go after what you don’t love.”

            "I love physics," Wells replied simply. “I know what you’re getting at. I loved Star’s co-creator even more.”

            "You're the one who designed Star-"

            "With one other person," Wells corrected. "Everyone forgets that I had someone who helped me make the original plans."

            "Who was the co-creator?" Joe asked, folding his arms over his chest.

            "My wife," Wells said. "Dr. Tess Morgan."

            "I didn't know you were married," Joe said. "She run off with half your paycheck?"

            "No, she ran off the road on a rainy night," Wells said bluntly. Joe swallowed hard, looking to his feet for a moment. He knew that feeling.

            "I'm sorry to hear that," he said.

            “They left a lot out of my biography,” Harrison said. “Most of my early life was completely wrong. They got most of my academic career and rise to the top right. But they left out the only reason why I wanted to go there in the first place. Tess was relegated to two sentences at the end of a paragraph about the women in my life.”

            "So when you left Starling..." Joe hedged.

            "I couldn't go back to time travel," Wells said. "I couldn't go back to the lab in Starling. I couldn't even go back to our apartment. Everything reminded me of her. Central City....I didn't have any memories with Tess. No one knew me here. No one was going to greet me with 'sorry for your loss'. The only thing I could turn to was fulfilling her dream."

            "The accelerator was Tess' design?" Joe asked. Wells shrugged.

            "More or less," Wells said. "A friend from CERN made some adjustments. But, yes, the accelerator was her baby."

            Joe shifted feet. "And the rest of Star?"

            "You mean the part I never really got to?" Wells asked. "Mostly mine. But still a lot of Tess. She...she was brilliant. She built three quarters of a personality program for an AI in less than a year. She designed the majority of this building by herself. She founded her own lab. It took me thirteen years to rebuild. Tess would've done it in three." His eyes glazed over like he was seeing her again. Her face as she smiled. Joe could still see Francine smiling and holding Iris.

            "I hope I can still count on your help with Nora Allen's case," Joe said.

            "Of course," Harrison said. "And, maybe now and again we can go get drinks."

            Joe chuckled. "Sure. Sure." Of course he’d be talking to Dr. Wells. How else would he get to know Nora Allen’s killer?

 

 

The familiar whoosh as _he_ stepped into the room. Iris' heart fluttered. She turned around, smile on her face and coating her voice. “Hi.”

            There was Barry. Plain old Barry. Iris was a little disappointed; she’d wanted to thank the Streak one more time. She left the dirty dishes on the tables. She only hesitated a little, thinking about how Barry may or may not be involved with the Streak and didn’t tell her.

            “Joe told me what happened,” Barry said. “How’s the hand?” He pointed to her bandaged one with a wrapped hand of his own.

            "Not broken," Iris said. "So that's something." Silence stretched between them. The awkward after-fight moments. The loneliness of being apart was still strong.

            "What happened to your hand?" Iris asked.

            "I wanted to talk to you about that," Barry said. He had this look on his face, like he'd just been set on fire, yet he still smiled. "And...about the whole blogging about supernatural events. Can we sit down?"

            Iris sat. Barry eased himself into the chair across from her.

            "It was unfair to ask you not to blog about the supernatural," Barry said. "I know how much it means to you. How much the impossible means to me. I'm sorry. It was hypocritical of me."

            "It's okay," she said. "I've missed you." That look on his face... It made her heart hurt. How could it not? It was an old man’s expression on her Barry’s face. She kept glancing at his hand, trying not to think about why it was bandaged.

            "When I heard Tony took you, I - well, I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to you," Barry said. "And I know I can't keep lying to you. Iris, the reason why I didn't want you writing about meta-humans because a lot of us are really, really dangerous."

            Even with all the signs right in front of her, it still hit her like a wall. All his unnecessary time at Star. They were studying him. And continued contact was what, him practicing his abilities?

            “And you?” Iris asked. “You can't be dangerous.” Not Barry. Not sweet, plain old Barry. Barry tall and vanilla. Barry who'd carried her six blocks when she'd broken her arm. Barry who'd been there when she hurt, listened to all her hopes and dreams. Barry, whose idea of fun was going to the Science Station and exploring the exhibits.

            “I could be, if I wanted to,” Barry said. There was no way he didn't know the Streak. The Streak had to go to Star Labs. How else would he get a sweet superhero suit at the drop of a hat? Barry covered his face with his clasped hands.

            “Barry, who is the Streak?” Iris breathed. Barry took a deep breath. He lowered his hands.

            “I prefer the Flash,” he said, wry smile on his face.

 

 

_Equations ran through his head._

_The rush of the river slipped through his hands. He grabbed for it. It was here and gone so fast, just bits and pieces from scattered places. So many places. The branching world._

_Ronnie burst into flames, reaching out of the fire. Cisco tried to close the gap through the heat that could end a star. Ronnie’s hand kept slipping off his own, like it was covered in oil._

_“You did this to me!” Ronnie bellowed, falling into the flame. Eaten alive by Cisco's failure._

            Cisco woke with a start. He bumped his ankle on the coffee table. He panted in the dark. When the dream became fuzzy and panic subsided he sat back on the couch, settling down next to a warm body, returning to the night.

 

\---

 

Caitlin woke, still snuggled next to Cisco.

            He'd moved sometime in the night, jostling her awake for a brief moment before she'd settled back into his sturdy warmth. Waking up next to him just... It made her so stupidly happy. Why couldn't it be simple? Why couldn't they be together?

            Caitlin wanted to intertwine their fingers. But was she allowed? Her change in breathing roused Cisco. The two held their gaze for a long while. His brown eyes were perfect. The left one a little lopsided around his pupil. But you couldn’t tell unless you were really looking. Utter perfection.

            The two of them looked away. Caitlin could feel the flush in her cheeks.

            “We can’t – I can’t,” Cisco said.

            "I...I really like you, Cisco," Caitlin said. "I...I just wanted to..." She could feel the tears coming. Oh, no. She'd complicated things.

            "I like you, too," Cisco said. "But...Ronnie was my best friend. Even if he's gone...this feels like we're betraying him. Like I'm betraying him."

            Caitlin looked down at her knees. "He's gone, Cisco. I'm never going to forget him. But I want to move on with the person who makes me so happy." Cisco took her hands in his, like he could hold the whole world inside them.

            "I will protect you and make you happy, but...I can't," Cisco said. "It feels like he's still here to me."

            "Where does that leave us?" Caitlin asked.

            "I-I don't know," Cisco admitted.

 

 

Lab techs bustled around, carefully ignoring him. Harrison gnawed on his lip. He didn’t want to be aged forward. He liked where he was now. But no one was letting him take the risk of a heart attack.

            “Oh, don’t look so grumpy,” Tina laughed. “You’re one of few people on the planet who get to be young again. Who knows how good this will be for you.”

            “Probably not as good as we’re both hoping,” Harrison said. “But here’s to some extra stem cells floating in my body…You know the girl needs protection. Everyone is going to be after her, trying to get her powers.”

            “I know,” Tina sighed.

            “Let me speak to her parents,” Harrison said. “I know someone who’s been helping meta-humans. Feylinn may not be entirely safe, but she’ll at least have other meta-humans watching out for her.” Tina inspected her left hand idly.

            “I suppose I could arrange a meeting,” she said.

            “That would be appreciated,” Harrison said.

            They sat in silence, watching the lab techs swarm.

            “I’d rather not beat around the bush,” Tina said, interrupting the low buzz of the techs as they tested organic compounds. “Would you like to go on a date with me?”

            “Excuse me?” Harrison sputtered.

            “A date. We share a meal and attempt to be emotionally present,” Tina said. “Perhaps discuss what we’d like out of a relationship.”

            When they first met up in college, Harrison had actually been interested in Tina. But Tina was too busy with her boyfriend to even notice. And then Harrison met Tess. And Harrison eventually had the pleasure of marrying the most beautiful woman to ever exist. Harrison hadn’t really been on any dates since Tess. He’d been railroaded into a few business meetings that felt less business than he would’ve liked. He’d gone on a few first dates set up by friends. No one came back for seconds.

            “I haven’t really dated much since…,” Harrison said. “I’m not really sure that I really moved on from her.”

            “Maybe I can help you,” Tina said, setting her hand on his.

            “Maybe,” Harrison said.


	9. Current (Events)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's an ability-thief in town. Iris deals with blatant plagiarism. Cisco changes his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those reading both Central City and Keystone: this happens after the events in Keystone Chapter 10 - Power Surge

God. Fucking. Damnit.

                It was plagiarism. Outright plagiarism. Those words were directly from ‘Kid Frenzy’. Iris watched and re-watched every segment, scanning the credits. There was no mention of the source. Her article was being ripped off. By a major network.

                _They don’t think I’m not going to do something about this?_ Iris raged. She was going to protect her work. This was _hers_. She only really knew one person who could help her. Ana texted her back promptly with a possible solution.

 

Tony lay in his bunk, almost placid. It was hard to imagine the beast he was. Barry had looked deeper into Tony’s criminal file. It was worse than he’d expected.

                “Still feeling good from saving the day?” Caitlin asked.

                “He never stopped being a bully,” Barry said. “After he got powers, it got worse. It’s hard not to wonder what his life would be like if he hadn’t gotten powers.”

                “It’s not that hard,” Caitlin said. “I took a peek at some CCPD files. Detective Thawne discovered that Tony supposedly died in a factory accident on the night of the particle accelerator explosion. Sounds like the particle accelerator gave some people a second chance, for better or worse. Like you trying to give the hamster wheel a second chance.”

                “One slip and I’m training to be an astronaut.” Barry realized that Cisco was five feet away and hadn't reacted to the dreaded 'h-word'.

                "He's made sure it's safe," Caitlin assured him.

                "Is he okay?" Barry asked. Cisco was staring at a tangle of wires, not blinking.

                "He gets this way when he's working on a project that really, really interests him," Caitlin explained. "He just...goes somewhere. It's like he's in a dimension of his own."

                "Can he hear us?" Barry asked, a little relieved when Cisco finally blinked.

                "I'm not totally sure," Caitlin said. "Sometimes I think he can, but other times...not so much. I think it depends on the day and what he's trying to accomplish. Or avoid." She looked down at her shoes, flushing. Barry leaned in, lowering his voice.

                “Is something…going on between you and Cisco?” Barry asked. Caitlin chewed her lip, not taking her eyes off her stilettos.

                “I messed up,” Caitlin said. “I don’t want to lose him. Just…I don’t want him to shut me out entirely.”

                “He won’t shut you out,” Barry assured her. Whatever had happened, he couldn’t imagine Cisco doing that. “Just talk to him. I’m sure he’ll come around.”

                “I just-I have to go test fibers,” Caitlin huffed, clacking over to the other side of the lab.

                Barry’s phone buzzed. “Hey, Joe.”

                “Barry, get over here. We have a meta-human attack on our hands.”

 

“Linda Park?” Iris asked.

                “The one and the same,” Linda said. She was the same Linda Park from Central City Picture News. Her dad _adored_ Linda’s columns on sports. “I hear you need a little advice on filing a lawsuit for plagiarism.”

                “Yeah,” Iris said, seating herself. “I didn’t know where else to start. I thought I should get advice from someone who went through the same thing.”

                “You’re a lot smarter than I was,” Linda said. “I got a crappy lawyer and a settlement that reflected it. If you don’t mind me asking, what happened?”

                “Did you see KPN’s news story the other day?” Iris asked, pulling out her laptop. “The one about the adults who were turned into kids?”

                “Yeah,” Linda said. “Did they not credit a quote from you?”

                “No, they ripped off my article, word for word,” Iris said, pulling up her article and the news story. She turned the laptop to Linda, who watched. As each word was spoken, her mouth dropped a little more.

                “This was a direct rip,” Linda breathed. “Oh. My. God. This is a slam-dunk. You could get major cash from this.”

                “I’m not really interested in the cash. I want them to shout it from the rooftops that they were wrong,” Iris said. Not that she wouldn’t mind a little money to pay her phone bill.

                “This is crazy,” Linda said. “What the hell happened to their editorial staff?”

                “I don’t know, but I want this cleared up yesterday,” Iris said.

                “I know a couple people who would love your case,” Linda said, pulling out a pad of paper. She scribbled down some numbers and handed them over. “The first guy is your best bet. He won’t push you into a huge settlement if you don’t want it.”

                “Thank you,” Iris said, taking the paper. Linda slid the laptop back to Iris.

                “You know, Central City Picture News is finding itself in desperate need of someone to fill our new column,” Linda hedged.

                “Is that a job offer?” Iris asked.

                “I’m not that important. But I have heard my boss throw your name around,” Linda said. “A few of us have a bet on how long it’ll take before he breaks and asks you to take it. I mean, no one else is covering meta-humans. And the few who are trying aren’t really getting anywhere.”

                Iris swallowed hard. She felt like all she did was chase ghosts through empty websites, gleaning what she could and slapping it together with paste.

                “How do I apply?” Iris asked. “For the meta-human column, I mean.”

                “Turn in a resume to Eric Larkin,” Linda said. “Before you do, I’d expand your body of work a little more. Add at least three more pieces. Put me down as a reference on your resume. I’ll let him know to expect you.” Linda wrote down the email on another piece of paper.

                “Really?” Iris asked. “That’s it?”

                “Well, the interview,” Linda said. “Anything else you want to know?”

                “Not right now,” Iris said. “Is it okay if I text you if I have any questions?”

                “Of course,” Linda said. “It was nice meeting you, Iris.” They shook hands. For a second, Iris had an almost inexplicably wild fantasy about being a reporter, chasing down bad guys with her boyfriend, best friend, and dad. She could help catch them and then report on it.

                “It was amazing meeting you,” Iris said. “Thank you so much for your help.”

 

“Where’s Allen?” Singh barked. Joe kept studiously looking over the files.

                “Right here, Captain,” Barry said, stepping past the other officers. “Just had to get my kit. What happened here?”

                “This guy came in claiming to be one of those meta-humans,” Eddie said. “He said that someone stole his powers. Right now we think he had heart failure.” Joe finally tore himself away from the skeptical notes made by one of the ringers.

                Barry inspected the body. There were some black spots all over the man’s hands.

                “When the coroner takes a look at this man, ask him to take a sample of a nerve,” Barry said.

                “So he is one of those meta-humans?” Eddie asked, confused.

                “Looks like it,” Barry said. “But we’ll know more when the autopsy is done.”

                “If you had to guess what happened, what would you guess?” Joe asked.

                “I’d guess that this man has nerves made of metal. It looks like the ends of each nerve literally fried,” Barry said. “Maybe a meta-human with electrical abilities did this.”

                “Let’s get on that,” Joe said, motioning to Eddie. Barry was about to walk after them when Singh stopped him.

                “Allen, you’re on the substation case, still. Figure out who’s stealing electricity,” Singh growled.

 

He could almost always depend on his latest project to distract him from problems. Cisco had used his favorite projects to avoid thinking about his family or to procrastinate when trying to make a decision. But even the idea of a suit that would adjust to fit the wearer wasn’t working for him.

                It had been easier to just be Caitlin’s friend. He could like her and pretend that it was only a crush. Now he had to deal with the idea that he was the other guy. Sort of. Not exactly. Logically, yes, but...emotionally, Cisco kept feeling like Ronnie was still here.

 _He was vaporized_ , Cisco reminded himself. _You shut the Pipeline door too early and vaporized your best friend. And now you're actually considering dating his girlfriend. Congratulations. You're officially a bigger dick than Hartley._

                "Uh, Cisco, Dr. Wells wants you to check on the generator," Caitlin said. She had her hands clasped in front of her, looking at anything but him.

                "Why?" Cisco asked.

                "He thinks there's something wrong with the way it's measuring Barry's output," she said. Cisco set down the fibers he was working on. Caitlin moved out of the doorway so they wouldn't have to be so close. He was thankful for that.

                "Cisco?" she asked.

                "Yeah?" he said, turning. She was looking him in the eye.

                "Whatever...is going on, we're still friends, right?" she asked. "I mean, I didn't ruin that, right?"

                "No," Cisco said. "We're just...having a disagreement. It'll be fine." She smiled. Damn. Damn. He was getting that little jello feeling in his knees. Escape. Escape. ESC.

                                                               

“Here’s another one,” Eddie said, tossing a case file into the ever-growing pile. In the past two weeks, there was an increasing number of people who were ‘attacked’ but sustained nothing worse than a panic attack. Barry was following up with the hospitals for some reason.

                “There’s a pattern,” Barry said. “These victims are going to ER’s just hours after their attack. I can’t get what was wrong, but I found out that most of them refused follow-up checks. And those that did accept follow-up checks canceled after up to forty-eight hours after the attack.”

                “What does that mean?” Eddie asked.

                “I used a cross-referencing program to check what else happened within forty-eight hours after each attack,” Barry said. “There are a ton of unexplainable crimes that only occur within two days of the attacks. A power-outage that only happens in one room. Security cameras suddenly frying.”

                “So…what, these people are becoming meta-humans and then going on a crime spree?” Eddie said.

                “I think they’re meta-humans who got their powers stolen temporarily. The same person attacking them is the same person stealing their powers and using them in crimes later,” Barry said.

                “That’s kind of a leap,” Eddie said.

                “Assuming that they’re all meta-humans, it’s not like they’re all just being attacked and then suddenly using their powers to commit crimes,” Barry pointed out. “Why haven’t they all been doing it regularly? Somehow this guy is somehow getting their powers and using them in robberies.”

                “What if he’s putting a whammy on them?” Eddie asked. That made a lot more sense to him.

                “That…also makes sense,” Barry said.

                “I’ll see about following up with some of these might-be meta-humans,” Eddie said. “Thanks. And Barry?”

                “Yeah?” Barry asked.

                “Aren’t you supposed to be working on the substation case?” Eddie asked. “Singh was bellowing that he was about to come up and check your progress on that.”

                Barry paled a little. “Thanks, Eddie. You’re a lifesaver.”

 

Iris had her eyes glued to the TV at Jitters, watching yet another news story about meta-humans.

                “Everything okay?” Barry asked.

                “Yeah, it’s just…have you noticed that not _one_ politician has a really, really bad thing to say about meta-humans?” Iris asked. “Like, it’s not that I want anyone gunning for meta-humans to be hunted down or something, but no one is really saying anything like ‘let’s round them up’.”

                “I hadn’t really noticed,” Barry said. “But I’m really glad that Bellows passed the laws about building a meta-human holding facility connected to Iron Heights. It’s gunna make my life a lot easier to just drop them off there.”

                “Where are they being held, Barry?” Iris whispered. Barry realized his slip. Iris would definitely side with Caitlin. But they’d made a deal. Caitlin wouldn’t go back on their deal. Right?

                “We’re going to let them go on the first of the year, for sure,” Barry assured her. “Maybe sooner with the way things are looking.”

                “You’re holding them at Star,” Iris realized. “Oh. My. God.”

                “One of them killed a lot of people,” Barry said. “The other is an attempted murderer. The only other one there is there because CCPD requested him to be held there. I promise.” Iris’ resolve of horror wavered.

                “It’s not right that you’re keeping them there without trial,” Iris said. “Even if it is only temporary.”

                “I know. I know it’s not right,” Barry said. “But I can’t let them out knowing that they might kill again. Not until Iron Heights can accommodate them.”

                Iris’ resolve stayed at wavering, not crumbling. She served up Barry a cup of coffee. “I know you can’t do that. And I don’t have to like the way you do things.”

                “Are we fighting again?” Barry asked. Iris started filling up the decaf.

                “No,” she replied. “We’re not. We have a disagreement that…I can live with for a while.”

                “I’m sorry to drag you into all of this,” Barry said. “I just can’t lie to you anymore. And speaking of lying, I’m going to have to tell Joe that you know.”

                “My dad knows before I do?” Iris demanded.

                “He made me promise I wouldn’t say anything,” Barry said quickly.

                “Of course he did,” Iris snapped. “I might kill him.” She had Joe’s ‘you’re in it deep’ face down to a T. “Scooch. I have to get to work.”

                “I’ll see you later?” Barry asked.

                “Of course,” Iris said, waving him off. Barry took his coffee out as fast as he could without actually running-

                Someone yanked him, pulling him into the alley. Barry swung at his assailant. The man was fast. And he had a solid grip on Barry’s jacket and neck. In the blink of an eye, Barry felt worn-out.

                He was let go, shoved into a brick wall. Barry recovered, tumbling into the movement, and back to run after the mugger. Only, he wasn’t running very fast. At all. He was running like he always did.

 

“It’s gone,” Wells said, dumbstruck.

                “Are you sure?” Joe pressed. Wells started to type furiously. His screen turned black, and it looked like he was writing in code.

                “I can’t find any of it,” Wells growled. “ _No_.”

                “Evidence doesn’t just _vanish_ ,” Joe said. “What are we supposed to tell Barry when he starts looking back into Nora’s murder?”

                “We tell him that I’m always prepared,” Wells said, holding up a USB port. He plugged it in, pulling up the evidence. There it was. Intact. Whether it was Wells who’d stolen the evidence or not, Joe was glad he’d scanned everything in.

                The screen blacked out for a second. When it turned back on, the evidence was gone. In its place was a single document. Wells opened it. The document contained three pictures. One was of Iris smiling. The other was of Dr. Tina McGee. Below was the message ‘stop or they die’. Below it all was Barry’s insignia in red, facing the opposite direction.

                Joe’s heart leaped into his chest.

                “Are we just going to give up?” Wells asked, as if he were going to follow Joe’s orders.

                “For now,” Joe said. That photo of Iris was the one he kept on his dresser – it had the same footprint on the corner from where he’d dropped it and hadn’t realized he stepped on it. “Definitely for now.”

 

“So, Miss West, what can I do for you?” Avery Pollock asked.

                “I have a plagiarism case that I was hoping you’d take,” Iris said. “My article was stolen word for word by KPN. I was hoping you could help me get credit for my work.”

                “Well, let me take a look at your published work and the KPN article,” Mr. Pollock said. Iris pulled the article and the KPN clip up. Mr. Pollock watched the clip, his face stony. He scrutinized the screen, pausing and rewinding several times. Iris found herself fighting the urge to fidget. She was itchy all over and wanted to get up and pace.

                “You definitely have a case here,” Mr. Pollock said. “This will hold up in court. But I have a feeling that KPN will be trying to settle.”

                “I’m not really out for blood,” Iris admitted. “I mostly just want credit. I mean, if they offer money, I won’t say no. But I want them to publically apologize and to credit my work. And when I say that, I mean a whole segment on live TV. A statement on their website will not cut it.”

                “Let’s explore that,” Mr. Pollock said, grabbing a legal pad.

 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you that red in the face before,” Cisco said.

                “I don’t think you’ve ever really seen me without my powers before,” Barry panted, collapsing into a chair. “There’s a meta-human in town who can steal powers. And he has mine.”

                “That explains why channel seven is reporting on you stealing over sixty thousand in jewelry,” Caitlin said, showing them her tablet. Slow-motion security footage had a flicker of energy holding a person come in and out of a jewelry store.

                “Barry, why are you holding up jewelry stores?” Joe demanded, Dr. Wells coming in right behind.

                “I’m not,” Barry panted. “I had my powers stolen. Now he’s holding up a TV store. Gotta have that curved HD, I guess.”

                “Did he target you?” Dr. Wells asked. “Did he know you have powers?”

                “I don’t see how he could know that I have powers,” Barry said. “And I have no idea if he’s seen my face.”

                “Hold on, you can’t just lose your powers,” Caitlin protested. “You’d literally need your DNA reverted to what it used to be. And we can’t do that.”

                “We’ll run tests,” Dr. Wells said. “Cisco, you’ve been asked to consult on the Iron Heights Pipeline. Now that the Flash is officially a criminal, they want it done ASAP.”

               

“We need something to counteract a madman who can run like lightning,” Singh raged. “We can’t trust this menace and everyone else who is, too. We need an anti-meta-human task force.”

                “Mayor Bellows doesn’t seem like he’ll go for something so…on the nose,” Eddie said. “Maybe a-”

                “I don’t care what it’s called, Thawne,” Singh barked. “Joe, you’re in charge of it.”

                “Maybe there’s a second speedster,” Joe suggested. “We don’t know that the Flash isn’t trying to catch this guy.”

                “Again: I don’t care,” Singh snarled. “Hunt him down. Find out what happened. Whatever. Arrest this son of a bitch before he starts spreading panic in the city.”

                “Sure thing,” Eddie said. “We’re on it.”

 

“When did you stop being the good guy?” Ana asked, swanning in. “Hey, Harrison. Hello, Caitlin. Nice to see you again.”

                “That’s not me,” Barry groaned. “My powers were stolen.”

                “Some guy roughed you up a little?” Ana asked. “I wondered if he would find you.”

                “You know about this?” Caitlin asked. “Can you tell me anything else?”

                “Uh, he’s been targeting metas with electrical powers,” Ana said. “They go away for anywhere from twelve to forty-eight hours.”

                “Do people usually die because of losing them?” Barry asked.

                “No one that I’ve talked to has,” Ana said. “Did he kill someone?”

                “A man died at CCPD today. I didn’t get to see, but I think his nerves were made of metal,” Barry said. Ana’s slightly bemused expression dropped.

                “I know him,” Ana said. “We only met for a little while. He-he literally needs to charge himself up every six hours. He was worried that he couldn’t re-grow his nerves if they fried. He couldn’t feel anything in his fingertips.”

                “Even if he was on a full charge, he wouldn’t be able to make it to the twelve-hour minimum,” Barry realized.

                “Becoming a meta-human saved his life,” Ana said. “Copper stopped building up in his system. He didn’t need a liver transplant anymore… But I’m not here for him. I’m here to train you.”

                “I’m powerless,” Barry retorted.

                “That doesn’t mean you can’t learn how to fight,” Ana retorted. “Besides, you’re a superhero who doesn’t know first aid.”

                “Ooh, can I help?” Caitlin asked.

                “Why haven’t you had her teach you?” Ana asked, as if realizing that Caitlin was a doctor.

                “I guess I didn’t really think about it…” Barry trailed off.

                “Well you’re gunna learn now,” Ana said.

 

As soon as everyone on the main floor started screaming, Cisco did the impossible. He pulled himself into the locker that Barry used. He couldn’t believe he could still fit.

                It was quiet outside. Sometimes it was way more quiet inside a locker. Sometimes the locker picked up every noise outside of it, turning into an echo chamber. Just like it was now. Just outside, someone shuffled around, as if searching for something. Or someone.

                Bile spread across his tongue. Cisco swallowed. He pulled a mint out of his pocket- The intruder stopped shuffling. Cisco stopped moving. Stopped breathing. Had he been heard?

                The locker door was pulled open. Cisco pressed further into the back of the locker. In the afternoon light, it was clear to see that it was Detective Eddie Thawne.

                “It’s Cisco, right?” Eddie asked. “How’d you get in here? I’m pretty sure I can’t squeeze into one of these anymore.”

                “I’m talented,” Cisco choked. “What’s going on down there?”

                “Hostage situation,” Eddie explained. “Tockman and a kid we pulled in just this morning have the whole place under lockdown. The kid’s a meta or something.”

                “Can we take them?” Cisco asked, un-folding himself from the locker.

                “Tockman, maybe. He’s really calculating, but you’re creative. You could throw something at him that no one would expect,” Eddie said. “But I have no idea how to deal with meta-humans.”

                “What does the kid do?” Cisco asked.

                “He throws fire everywhere,” Eddie said. “Between the two of them, they’re pretty unstoppable.”

                “Where does the fire come from?” Cisco asked. “Like, does he shoot it from his hands? Breathe it?”

                “It comes out of his hands, yeah,” Eddie said. “I don’t know about his mouth.”

                “I have some ideas for how to neutralize him,” Cisco said. He started poking through Barry’s chemical stock. “What do you have in terms of gear?”

                “My gun, my vest, and a Taser,” Eddie said. “If we could get ahold of a radio, we could tell the others. They’re all camped out _right there_.”

                “We could let them know where we are,” Cisco suggested.

                “Tockman and his little…puppet might see someone coming up that side of the building,” Eddie said. “Tockman keeps checking the windows regularly.”

                “We don’t have to have someone come rescue us,” Cisco reasoned. “All we have to do is let people know where we are. It’s not like Tockman is going to block our cell phones, right?”

 

“I understand that Mr. Ramon is inside the station, but I can’t do anything until we can get a read on what’s going on inside,” Singh barked. “Mr. Allen, unless you have new information for me, I suggest you clear off.”

                The tent was packed with people. It felt almost as though a few of them were running into him on purpose.

                “Captain, I understand that you feel that we’re in the way,” Dr. Wells said. “But I’d like to remind you that it was _you_ who insisted that the planning of the Iron Heights meta-human facility be planned at CCPD. And I will hold _you_ personally accountable for any damage done to any Star Labs employees.”

                “Noted,” Singh snapped. His phone buzzed. He checked it and slapped it down. Almost as if it had been his doing, all the laptops shut off. The buzz of police officers managing a hostage situation warped into frustration.

                “What now?” Singh growled. Barry’s phone buzzed. He checked it. Cisco.

                “Cisco?” Barry asked.

                “Hey, Barry,” Eddie said. “Hand me over to Singh, will you?”

                “Captain,” Barry said.

                “Go home,” Singh growled.

                “It’s Eddie. From inside the precinct,” Barry said. Singh grabbed the phone. Barry found himself being towed with Dr. Wells and Caitlin back to the Star Labs van.

                “Did you hear about Cisco?” Caitlin asked.

                “I can only assume he’s with Eddie,” Barry sighed, helping Dr. Wells into the van. Caitlin took side roads back to Star, avoiding the inevitable collisions when people hadn’t realized that the traffic lights weren’t working.

                “We’re not letting this go, right?” Caitlin pressed.

                “Of course not,” Dr. Wells said. “First, we need to go back to Star. We’re going to put power back into the city. Then we’re going to grab the sound canons Hartley made and turn them on the CCPD.”

                “We could bring down the building,” Caitlin argued. “Why don’t we use that laser Arthur Light made?”

                “The one he claimed only temporarily blinded? Yeah, it permanently blinds,” Dr. Wells said. “That man was insane.”

                “Maybe I can take a look at Barry’s system one more time,” Caitlin said. “Maybe there’s something I can do to jumpstart your speed.”

                “Jumpstart it?” Barry asked. “I’m not a car.”

                “But your coach said it was metas with _electrical_ powers,” Caitlin said. “You generate electricity. It comes off you in waves. Maybe what he’s doing somehow drains your electrical stores, and the time spent without powers is your body trying to recoup that.”

                “If that’s the case, what we’re going to do next will be _shocking_ ,” Dr. Wells said.

                “Did you just-,” Barry asked.

                “Hertz, doesn’t it?” Dr. Wells said, not cracking a smile.

                “Ohm-migod, stop,” Barry laughed.

                “Resistance is futile,” Dr. Wells said.

                “Finally, we’re here,” Caitlin said, pulling into the Star Lab’s garage. “I’m not sure I could take much more of that.” She parked. Dr. Wells started unloading himself. Barry hesitated. Did he offer to help? Did he stand idly by and watch as Dr. Wells did it on his own? The latter seemed rude, and the first seemed patronizing.

                “I’m really glad I followed you.” The voice was like Barry’s usually was when he was the Flash. Vibrating vocal chords. The meta wore a mask that covered his entire face. He’d taken to leather – it was terrible at venting heat, but it was better than most other commonly found materials at not catching fire.

                “You stole…the Flash’s powers,” Caitlin accused.

                “I know,” the man laughed. “Barry Allen. The Flash. Sweet setup you have. Star Labs for your tech. CCPD for your crime-fighting. But not anymore. Out of the van.” Barry got out slowly.

                “You have my powers,” Barry said. “You have all the money you could want. I have no idea who you are. It’s not like I can come back to you when my powers come back.”  
                “See, that’s the thing,” the man said. Cisco would have come up with an amazing nickname for this guy. “I want your powers all the time. And you guys are going to make that happen.”

 

Absolutely no one was picking up. Not her dad. Not Eddie. Not Barry. Not Singh. Not even Officer Vukavich, who she could see from where she stood. The officers guarding the camp the police had set up wouldn’t let her through, and no one would say anything.

                As far as Iris was concerned, her whole world was locked up in the CCPD under gunpoint. And she was stuck out there, unable to do squat. Helpless. Alone.

                _No. I refuse to be stuck here doing nothing._

                She pulled her recorder out. If she couldn’t get in, the least she could do was figure out what was going on.

 

Epigenetics and biolectrics would have a field day with this…Siphon. That sounded like a name Cisco would like. When he touched a meta-human with electrical powers, the bioelectrics from the other meta temporarily changed the DNA in his body. It gave him new powers, if only for a little while. But it was causing severe cellular damage. Caitlin had taken tissue samples an hour apart. He was healing due to Barry’s powers. But not fast enough.

                “Can you do it?” Siphon demanded.

                “I only just figured out exactly what your power _is_ ,” Caitlin said. “It’s going to take time to formulate anything that could make you keep Barry’s power for an extended period. And even then, I don’t even know if I can make something that’s permanent.”

                “That’s not what I want to hear,” Siphon said, making a threatening motion towards Barry and Dr. Wells.

                “It’s not what you want to hear, but it’s the truth,” Caitlin snapped. “I can’t just make it permanent because I want to. I have to run tests and make sure I’m not going to kill you by accident. Unless you find that preferable.”

                Caitlin had never been struck across the face before. She found herself staring at the computer screen, not quite sure why her face hurt so much. Why did she feel so numb? So cold?

                A little red flash flickered in the corner of her eye. Thunder cracked, deafening her. Siphon was being assailed by what appeared to be the child of fire and lightning. Barry was coming towards her, dragging her away.

                “Come on!” Barry urged, yanking her into the hallway.

 

“What happened?” Caitlin whispered.

                “Dr. Wells turned into lightning,” Barry murmured. “Or – fire.” They silenced themselves as Siphon – aptly named by Caitlin – whizzed by again, scrutinizing ‘every inch’ of Star once again. He hadn’t even tried the Pipeline. Then again, he couldn’t access it.

                Siphon passed. Barry opened his mouth, but Caitlin shook her head. The lights in the hallway dimmed to red emergency lights. An alarm sounded. The two waited, but Siphon didn’t return.

                “What’s that alarm?” Barry asked, having to get very close to Caitlin so she could hear.

                “I’ve never heard this one before,” Caitlin said. The two of them waited just a bit longer.

                “Core meltdown imminent,” a computer-woman announced. “Evacuate to the nearest bay immediately. Core meltdown imminent in t-minus ten minutes.”

                “Hold on,” Barry said. “Is that – the computer from _Skylancer: Return of Velgari_?”

                “It is,” Caitlin realized. She checked her watch and motioned to Barry. They became silent. Siphon returned, running more slowly. He kept glancing over his shoulder. The computer kept announcing a core meltdown.

                When Siphon was gone, they made a break for it. The computer changed to a later announcement from the movie.

                “Core meltdown imminent. Shutting bay doors,” she said. “T-minus six minutes.” One of the junction hallways was shut. But a wall had opened. Caitlin pulled Barry inside. The door slid shut immediately. The sound was cut off inside.

                It was about the side of a large closet. The walls seemed to be giant computer chips encased in glass with a liquid insulator.

                “Welcome to Process Station Alpha-Six,” a female computer said. She was different than the British announcer in the hallway. “My name is Giddeon.”

                “And you are?” Caitlin asked.

                “I am the artificial intelligence that runs Star Labs,” Giddeon replied. “I will protect all employees and friendly residents of Star Labs.”

                “You run the building?” Barry asked, confused.

                “I regulate all luxury systems, store and organize all data input into any Star Labs computer, and complete other various tasks that keep Star Labs running,” Giddeon explained. “The intruder does not appear to be giving up. I am unsure that I can move you to a safer location without being caught.”

                “Giddeon, is there a place that you can get us to that can give me a jolt of electricity?” Barry asked.

                “By my calculations, there is no place that I can get you to that will give you a safe amount of electricity, even by the standards of your body,” Giddeon replied.

                “How much can you get me?”

                “Barry, just because your powers are electrical by nature doesn’t mean that you can actually absorb electricity straight from a source,” Caitlin said.

                “We have to try something,” Barry said. “Siphon is just going to keep coming. Eventually, he’s going to find this place. I don’t care how well hidden it is. He looks like he’s going to start smashing walls any minute now.”

 

Before the blackout, it would’ve been much easier for the SWAT team to get into CCPD and take on Tockman and Blitz (It was Cisco’s idea to name the meta-human. Eddie had to admit, it was badass.), but the blackout changed things. Changed the dynamic. Tockman and Blitz were circling faster. They were more agitated as the hours passed and they could see less and less outside.

                More rounds of checking made things too tight for SWAT to get in. At least not without a lot of officers being taken down in the process.

                “How’s it coming?” Eddie asked. Cisco got to his feet, grasping the canister tight.

                “It’s done. That should be it,” Cisco said. “So I just…go around?”

                “Yes. Blitz likes to loiter near the desk sergeant’s phone,” Eddie said. “It’ll be easier to drop it on him. Just do it and go.”

                “Okay,” Cisco said, fear quivering in his voice. He hefted the riot shield - a broken one that Barry had in his lab for some reason. It looked like it had been used for a couple of experiments.

                Cisco padded down the hallway, taking an alternate route that would bring him to the other side of the staircase, closer to Blitz’s hangout. Eddie waited on his side. Waited for Cisco to appear in the doorway. Cisco was there, canister shaking in his hands.

                Tockman was almost to the window. He couldn’t see Blitz, so that idiot would be patrolling homicide. Eddie crept down the stairs, slinking up to Tockman. He raised his gun and fired.

 

“Barry, this is more electricity than what they give to people in the electric chair,” Caitlin protested.

                “Caitlin, Dr. Wells could be dead or something, and we have a psychopath wandering the hallways who gave you a shiner,” Barry said. “Cisco and Eddie are being held hostage. I can’t sit back and do nothing.” He gripped the bar. “Giddeon, do it.”

                No voltage came.

                “This is not the time to have Asimov’s three laws,” Barry groaned.

                “They’re optional,” Giddeon said. Because that was going to make him feel better later. “However, I hesitate because I genuinely do not wish to harm you, Mr. Allen.”

                “Giddeon, do it,” Caitlin said. “I think – I think it will jumpstart his powers. His powers should fix anything that the electricity damages.” It made sense. She hoped.

                “I have one request,” Giddeon said. “I am unaware of if Dr. Wells is alive or dead right now. I want you two to promise not to tell him that I spoke to you.”

                “Why?” Caitlin asked.

                “He will be angry at me,” Giddeon said. “Please, Dr. Snow. Please, Mr. Allen.”

                “I promise not to tell Dr. Wells,” Caitlin said.

                “I promise not to tell Dr. Wells,” Barry said. “I can’t promise not to tell Cisco.”

                “I find these parameters acceptable,” Giddeon said. As soon as she was done speaking, Barry flinched, but he gripped the bar tighter. His legs shook, and his back spasmed.

                It was done before she could blink. Barry slid to the floor, panting. He held up his hand, buzzing it.

                “They’re back,” he panted, a wry smile on his face.

 

So hero work was a lot scarier up close than it was at Star. And their ticket to taking Blitz down slipped right out of his hands as the meta-human turned the corner, coming out of the bathroom, not the homicide department.

                Cisco found himself thinking about all the things in life he hadn't gotten to do. He hadn't gotten to submit his robot to the Junior League Robotics Competition. He hadn't gotten to try his hand at programming - really given it a go. He had the ability, but it just took too damn long for him to really get into it. He'd had the chance to be with Caitlin and he screwed that up.

                Tockman fired back at Eddie, almost unphased by the three bullets in his chest.  Blitz raised his hands, firing on Cisco.

                The Extinguisher hit the floor, releasing pressurized liquid nitrogen and putting the two other mixtures into contact, which foamed up _everywhere_ then froze. So Blitz threw a bunch of flames through a wall of frozen foam. Foam that was pretty much the same as the stuff firefighters used in particularly nasty cases.

                But, still, he could see it coming through wall. Imminent.

 _I don't want to die_ , Cisco thought, eyes closed, hands around his head. _I want to keep working at Star. I want to play Mario Kart with Barry. I want to watch old movies with Dr. Wells. I want to kiss Caitlin Snow._

                The sound was sucked out of the room for just a heartbeat. The entire world was still beneath his feet. He was going to live through this.

                When he opened his eyes, the wall of foam was spread across the entire CCPD. Blitz and Tockman had both fallen back. Maybe they’d slipped?

                Cisco took the win, sliding down the bannister to wrestle the gun out of Tockman’s hands. The old man was scrappy. Very calculating, too. He was trying to shoot the hostages. Fighting had never been Cisco’s strong suit. Dante had tried to tell him that he needed to make a few more desperate moves. Like headbutting Tockman.

                Headbutting was not as cool as it was on TV. Tockman was dazed, but he still had his wits about him. He pulled the gun out of Cisco’s hand. Too bad he was no longer protecting any other part of himself. Like his throat. Or his groin.

                The man went down hard. Cisco picked up the gun, stepping out of Tockman’s reach. When he glanced at Blitz, the man was surrounded by pissed off police officers who, despite being handcuffed, looked like they were dying to beat the shit out of him.

 

Just because Barry had his powers back didn’t mean that Siphon had suddenly lost what he’d stolen. His hand was ready for Barry’s fist when Barry arrived in the cortex.

                “I thought you might come for me,” Siphon purred. His fist snapped at Barry. All the hours spent with Eddie or Ana were suddenly worth it. Barry grabbed ahold of the arm and rolled back, throwing Siphon into a cement wall. Barry rolled back onto his feet and had a whole lot of speed punches for this asshole.

                “Don’t just keep punching him, get him out of here!” Caitlin called. Yeah. Having this guy siphoning his power again wouldn’t be the smartest thing.

 

“I heard you got shot, slick,” Iris said, doing her best impression of a black and white film noir dame. “Shows what you know. You had it coming.”

                “You dork,” Eddie laughed. “C’mere.” He was all bundled up with his arm sitting on an overstuffed pillow.

                “Mind giving me a statement for my piece on the hostage situation?” Iris asked. “It would really help if I got an interview with the hot cop who went toe to toe with a meta-human and the Clock King.” She traced his arm with her finger.

                “I don’t really think I have a choice,” Eddie chuckled. “I’m all tied up on a hospital bed.”

                “You’re really giggly. Maybe we should leave this conversation for when you’re not high as a kite,” Iris said, kissing his forehead.

                “I’m not high as a kite,” Eddie said. “I’m, like, on the lowest branch of a tree. I find you extra funny and smart.”

                “Aww, you’re just saying that because you want me to kiss you on the lips,” Iris cooed.

                “I won’t deny that it crossed my mind,” Eddie admitted. “Your kisses are a good substitute for pain meds.”

                “You won’t be saying that when the meds wear off,” Iris said. She kissed him on the lips ever so gently.

                “Can you stay the night here?” Eddie asked. “Like, they have cots and stuff.” Iris rolled the idea around in her head. She wanted to get the article on the CCPD hostage situation and clearing Barry’s – the Flash’s name done tonight.

                “Let me go get some stuff and I’ll be right back,” Iris said. She gave Eddie another kiss. “Don’t go anywhere, okay?”

                “Hurry, or I might start climbing the tree,” Eddie chuckled.

 

“I feel like when I got out of the accelerator explosion,” Wells groaned from behind Caitlin’s workstation. He had insisted on getting dressed by himself.

                “Your vitals look fine,” Caitlin said, checking over the medical data. “You didn’t do any additional damage to your back. If I didn’t know that this was your MRI, I’d say it was the MRI of a twenty-year-old. Have you had any signs of being a meta-human since you woke up from your coma?”

                “Nothing until now,” Dr. Wells grunted.

                “I checked the DNA you had on file, samples from around the lab, and your current DNA,” Barry said. “All three have variations. The first is what you’d expect to find in a human. The second has one distinct variation – all twenty-three have a little…knob on each leg. The last sample looks like the first, but when I compared the DNA, you’re not a match. The computer reads you with an eighty percent chance of being your brother.”

                “How is that possible?” Cisco asked. Caitlin checked over Barry’s shoulder at his work.

                “I’ll look into this,” Caitlin said. “Joe, Cisco, can I use your DNA for comparison?”

                “Sure,” Joe said. Cisco just shrugged. Poor kid was still shaken up over Tockman. “Does this mean that anyone who was here that day can turn into a meta-human at any time?”

                Wells rolled out into the cortex, a little askew, fully dressed. “What we know about evolution suggests not. I’d hazard to say that if people can become meta-humans after the fact, it will probably be due to self-preservation or preservation of one’s offspring.”

                “But he was attacking me, not you,” Caitlin said. She paused, the realization dawning on her. Smiled to herself. “Oh.”

                “Siphon was a good name,” Cisco said. “What are we going to do with him if he knows your secret? And can steal your powers? We can’t just keep him forever.”

                “Can we take his powers away? No one will take him seriously if he doesn’t have powers,” Joe asked.

                “Taking his powers away could damage him further,” Caitlin said. “He’s got severe cellular damage from using his powers. It’s likely that he’ll develop cancer soon.”

                “What do you mean?” Joe asked.

                “When he touches a meta-human with electrical powers, their bioelectricity interacts,” Caitlin explained. “Bioelectricity can be used to change DNA. When he sucks away the other meta’s excess electricity, his own DNA is temporarily changed to reflect the person he’s stealing from. All of that back and forth is damaging his current cells, and it’s negatively impacting his production of new cells. If he doesn’t have cancer now, he’ll probably go from being prisoner to patient very soon.”

                “I can’t deal with this right now,” Cisco said. “I just went toe to toe with Tockman and the Blitz, and I’m about ready to drop.”

                “I’ll take you home,” Caitlin said. She started gathering up her stuff.

                “I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” Barry said. “Goodnight, Giddeon.” Joe looked around. Guess he’d missed a lot.

                And then Wells was alone with Joe. Wells started gathering up his things.

                “They may not want to talk about that, but we probably should,” Joe said. “Just to get on the same page.”

                “Damn,” Wells groaned. “I need a drink.”

                “I never said we couldn’t discuss this over single malt liquor,” Joe said. “Lead the way, doc.”

 

The silence deafened him. It was a huge cavern, separating them, promising only a lethal plunge to whoever dared cross it. And she wasn’t going to cross first.

                “When I was going up against Tockman and Blitz, I thought I was going to die,” Cisco said. “I really did. I would’ve been frozen solid. I should’ve been.”

                “What unfroze you?” Caitlin asked.

                “The idea that if I died, I would die knowing that I never got to kiss you,” Cisco admitted. “I only get one chance at life, you know?”

                “Are you saying…that you want to…date?” Caitlin asked, sounding like she was trying to be somber and serious, but holding back a tidal wave of emotion.

                “Am I too late?” Cisco asked.

                “You’re not too late,” Caitlin said. Her cold hand slid into his own. Cisco wrapped both hands around hers, warming it up.

                “Is it too late at night to go on a date?” Cisco asked. Caitlin considered it. She guided the car towards a Big Belly Burger.

                “It’s never too late for a Big Belly Burger,” Caitlin said.

 

“Hey, Bear,” Iris murmured. Barry tiptoed in, glancing over at Eddie. “He’s asleep. The doctor was pretty pushy about the drugs. They help keep the swelling down.”

                “He’s gunna be okay?” Barry asked, sitting next to Iris.

                “It’s better than it looks. He’s not to go too far over the holidays, so he’s going to join us for Thanksgiving,” Iris said. “How was the copycat?”

                “Siphon, actually,” Barry said. “Cisco will send over the video evidence tomorrow so we can clear my name.”

                “Can you tell me more about it?” Iris hedged. Barry grinned, but he sobered.

                “Siphon was going around stealing powers from other meta-humans and using them to commit crimes. I’m not sure how he picked any of us as targets, but he got ahold of my powers,” Barry said. “When he took them, I felt a little drained. Someone I know had heard about it and let me know that my powers would be back soon. But then he attacked Caitlin and Wells at Star labs because he wanted my powers to be permanent. And, it turns out that he knows my secret.”

                “He knows you’re the Str- the Flash?” Iris asked. Barry nodded. “What are you going to do?”

                “I’m not even sure,” Barry said. “Caitlin and I figured out a way to supercharge me.”

                “I feel like you left out a ton,” Iris said. “You okay?”

                Barry shook his head. “When my powers were gone, I was completely useless. I couldn’t fight. I’m not on Caitlin or Dr. Wells’ level of intelligence. I’m not that creative. And, even worse than it all, I felt like there was a piece of _me_ missing. Like I wasn’t a whole person without my powers.”

                “Barry, you’re still you without them,” Iris said. “You’re the guy who would run into a building to save a kid who wouldn’t leave without her teddy. You’re the guy who, when he gets powers, he decides to do good with them.”

                “I know, I know,” Barry sighed. “It doesn’t stop me from feeling like less of myself. Like feeling like I can’t live without it.”

                Iris grabbed Barry. “Don’t. Don’t take yourself away from me, Barry Allen.”

                “I won’t,” Barry said. “I’m not going to. I just – it really scared me there for a minute.” Iris hugged him.

                “I see what you’re doing, Allen,” Eddie slurred. “Keep your hands off my lady…I’ll fight you.” Iris and Barry giggled. They parted.

                “I’ve also been thinking. I told you about who I am to keep you safe. It’s hard to kidnap you if you’re watching for it,” Barry said. “We didn’t tell the city from the get-go because I was worried that if we just suddenly announced it, we’d have mass panic. But I think people have adjusted, and they need to know what’s coming so they can watch for it.”

                “Tell the city so you can let go of the meta-humans at Star?” Iris asked. Barry hesitated. How did they release Nimbus and Stockton without putting themselves in danger?

                “We’re…definitely gunna figure something out,” Barry said.

 

Farooq clenched his hands around the electricity.

                “When are we going to get revenge?” he demanded. The man – Reverse Flash – didn’t deign to look back.

                “Soon,” he said. “One must be exact when playing the game of time. Do you want to simply kill Wells, or do you want to make sure he suffers as you have?”

                Farooq stemmed the flow of power to his hands. “I want him to beg me for death.”

                “Then you’ll need to be patient a bit longer,” Reverse Flash said.


End file.
